A Silver Lining
by Minty-Nutmeg
Summary: "Today, I met a transvestite burglar." The slightly slow, 'quirky' farmer Jill thinks it time to get back in the dating game, but there are no eligible bachelors in the Valley...Apart from the notorious Phantom Thief Skye, that is! Jill x Skye, natch.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

_**EDIT**__** – **__I have now revised this chapter, along with my others. The edits consist mainly of just technical, grammatical mistakes, so there's nothing to really miss. Thank you._

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**Hello, and welcome to my fanfic! :D **

**I won't bore you with billions of pre-fanfic junk (or at least, I'll try), but I will say this: Skye isn't in this chapter, but he will be in the next, don't worry. **

**What else...?**

**Oh! Yeah! Enjoy, everybody! :)**

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK!**__** - I do not own Harvest Moon. If I did, there would be pirates. And ninjas. NINJA PIRATES! X3**_

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Chapter 1 – The Beginning

I honestly never thought I would do something like this.

Farm life? Not one bit like how the movies portray it. You know: all of the running through fields, cheesy music blaring obnoxiously as the beautiful actors grin dazzlingly arm in arm with their equally gorgeous love interest, their clean, undirtied nails gleaming in the blazing sunlight as they reaffirm their city ways to a new and improved country life? Yeah, that's not how real life works, unfortunately – although I do find myself wishing for that a lot lately. Often I find myself falling asleep at the most inopportune times, such as the time I was eating a bowl of strawberry trifle for dessert (took me days to wash out all the custard and jelly from my hair), or the time I was feeding my first chicken (waking up to find it nesting comfortably on my bemused face), as I slowly adjust to the early days and late nights.

Furthermore, concerning the weather, it's an unusual occurrence to have _any_ sunlight for most of the year, never mind enough to label it 'blazing'; many a time I am caught under a tree, sniffing degenerately as I pity my poor, soggy self that gets constantly thrown about in the stormy rain. Also, watering your crops is damned hard work – my arms agonise and complain angrily whenever I try to reach into the top shelf of my fridge. I never learned the intricacies of what I now call 'watering can pain' during the 10 minute tutorial from the shorty-short mayor running this town.

_My_ town, rather – it's not nice.

Well, the town is actually _really_ nice: it's just that my farm is _atrociously horrendous_ – or should that maybe be horrendously atrocious? Actually, strike that thought, because I don't know, and I have now decided that I don't care. It took my accursed ferry _eight hours _to reach my father's old farm. I can handle that. I had _horrific_ boat lag - but I can handle that. However, can I handle seeing my _gorgeous, _my _simply stunning, _my _magnificent _dump?

No - I cannot.

That's probably the reason why, when I caught my first terrible glimpse of my inherited hovel, I sank to my knees in the weed infested, gravelly, junk covered field, howling whilst the mayor looked on in horror. Shuffling hesitantly towards me, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket, and frantically attempted to dry my tears. I was utterly hysterical – I had upped sticks, said my determined goodbyes and ditched most of my belongings to move out here, abandoning my old life in the city. And for what, exactly: a cold, unforgiving wasteland, barren of life or happiness.

In point of fact, actually, not completely barren of life. As I sat there, practically tearing the russet locks from my scalp, screeching at the terrified little civil servant who I believed had lied to me as I rolled around pitifully on the ground like a small child, a slight nudge at the bottom of my left calve caused me to whip round in surprise. That was when I first laid eyes on my cat and my dog - Lolly and Pop (I was very hungry at the time of naming). The pair of tiny, infantile animals were both filthy: both of their coats of fur were matted and completely caked in dirt, and Pop had a number of crusty, septic injuries on his minute, gentle paws. Obviously, it should go without saying that my heart melted instantaneously. Immediately, I forgot of my serious considerations of murdering the tomato nosed representative of the town, and swept the two forlorn creatures up into my warm arms, cooing words of comfort.

Mayor Thompson (or, as I like to think in my head every time I see him, Mr Ketchup the Tomato-Nosed Man) took this as his opportunity to pop the question regarding whether or not I would stay, gently leading into the main thrust of the conversation by inquiring with more than a hint of nervousness permeating his speech, "Those animals seem to have taken a liking to you, Jillian," he paused, fixing his glasses as he stared perplexedly at my initiation of a game of peek-a-boo with my new pets, before he continued, "will you keep them?"

Face frozen in a ridiculous, pouting expression in the midst of a 'boo', I replied in a way one might talk to a baby, so absorbed in my game that I could not be bothered changing my voice's level of maturity, "Naturally - I must!"

"Ah, yes, good, good," he coughed, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead, "Well. You seem rather," He faltered again, gulping slightly as he seemed to have a vivid flashback to my previous fury, "upset with the conditions of the farm you have inherited." I frowned heavily at this, my pout dragging at the corners to create a ridiculously annoyed looking face. In a clear attempt to prevent incensing me, he continued in soft, light tones, "However, I didn't lie to you about its state. When I told you, a year ago, that you had inherited the farm, it was still in the same order as when your father had died. You waited so long," he sighed, sadness permeating his voice as he glanced at the length of my dilapidated new hovel, "too long. So, the farm became desolate."

Irritably, I grumbled, "You could have told me over the phone, when I informed you that I was coming!"

"You did not ask of it once." At that, I tensed, head sharply snapping to in attention as my thoughts cleared to arrive at a simple, unforgivable and guilt-inducing truth. He was right. I did not care for the farm or for its preservation, even though my father dedicated most of his life to making it a paradise on earth. Hence, I felt absolutely, positively terrible.

Silently, I turned my face away to the ground in undiluted shame, mortified mouth shutting slowly as the undeniable certainty of his words sunk in. Blinking away miniscule drops of liquid, I rubbed my eyes melancholically. Eventually, I coughed wetly, my soft, regretful voice wavering in the air, "I'm very, _very _sorry, Mayor – please forgive my callousness."

Thomson shook his head sympathetically, blowing out a hushed puff of air, "Yes, yes, it is fine. You are here now, and that is all that matters. Listen to me, now," craning his neck to allow himself to bore into my elevated gaze that lay atop my taller body, he continued, "I have been close to this town all of my life – even if I've only just recently came to be Mayor of it along with my own village. Even now, I still remember when your father first arrived here, twenty years ago, with you and your mother in tow. Your father raised this farm to be the precious jewel beset the crown of this town," softly, he raised his hand to point at my surprised face, insistent, "_your _town, my dear. The blood of farming runs in your veins. You can transform this blank canvas into a regular Mona Lisa."

Grinning in amusement, I laughed quietly at his imagery, "Lovely expression, by the way."

Twitching his moustache in pride, he answered happily, "_Thank you. _So," he paused, scratching his chin, "what do you say? Will you stay? Will you try to turn this place back into a sensational business?"

There was a pause, in which I nibbled my fingernails tentatively. I had seen the farm when my father ran it – after all, I used to live there, before my parents divorced, and I had witnessed the farm at its finest. Could I ever hope to achieve such success?

Shaking my head softly, I faltered, "I'm not so sure about all of this," I sighed, "I don't think I can do it. I-I don't know anything about farming!"

Instantly, he countered with an enthusiastic and completely undettered bout of optimism and encouragement, "But we can teach you! That is the beauty of farming - you learn through doing. And if you are stuck, you can always ask for help from your neighbours, or Takakura, your father's old assistant. Before you know it, farming will have become your sixth sense."

Another self-conscious pause followed. A few licks on the wrist from my new pets snapped me back to the conversation, and I realised that I had decided without having even been conscious of it.

"_Mayor Thompson...I will take this farm!"_

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**So? What do you guys think about it? :) Good, bad...terrible (I certainly hope not!)? **

**I won't press for reviews, I know how you guys are! XD But, still, if you feel like it, please feel free to review...and give me cookies.**

**Mmm. **_**Coooooookiiieeeeessssss... *drool* *drool* X3**_


	2. Chapter 2: Smooth As Silk

_**EDIT**_ _– Have revised this chapter. Thanks!_

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**Hey, everybody! :3 A new chapter so soon? *GASP!* :)**

**I looked back over my first chapter again, just there, and, I have to say, I decided that I don't like it. :P I think I'll have to redo it soon. I've got a couple of chapters prepared, though, and I think my chapters get better along the way (Hopefully - you guys tell me!). Anyway! Skye is in this chapter (briefly...) :D.**

_flower konan_**: Glad you liked it, thanks very much! :D My first review...Gwah, skwee~! Cookie for moi? Yay! :) Munch munch munch...Tasty chocolate chips, thanks! X3**

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK!**__** - I do not own Harvest Moon, or it's characters. If I did, I would make Takakura Superman... :D**_

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Chapter 2 – Smooth as Silk

_**Day 3, Spring, Year 1**_

Today I cleared my field of everything I could. Some of the boulders and tree trunks were too big for the small tools I took out of my father's old toolbox, in the house. Since the only thing I did yesterday was work, I decided that I might as well go round and introduce myself to everybody in the village, and it went well, for the most part. I assumed I would get lost, so Takakura, my father's farmhand, drew me up a map. I went to all of the houses, and found that, actually, most of the people in Forget-Me-Not-Valley were very friendly and down to earth.

_Most. _

I met a few crazies, truth be told. That Darryl fellow, he seemed to be a total lunatic – and quite frankly, I had seen the way he looked at that picture of a cow he kept tacked to his wall.

_Please, **please** never work on a bovine ranch._

Gustafa, the eccentric musical hippie living in a kind of tent-y thing, although relatively nice and friendly, was somewhat 'out there'.

_He lives in a frickin' yurt. It smells like turnips._

The dwarfed old men that make fireworks, Patrick and Kasey, were rather loud and strange, and insisted on trying to talk me into going on a date with them both.

_Ha. That'll be the day - I'm not **that** desperate. Not **quite**, anyway._

Oh, and that Cody guy, the artist. He wasn't crazy at all, just quiet, but he lives in the same area as the rest of them, so I thought I might as well include him.

_Meh._

Huh. Writing that down, it becomes very obvious that all of the crazies seem to live in the South side of town - maybe I should stay away from there. Anyway, I met some lovely people, nonetheless. Some of the villagers I hit it off particularly well with were my peers in the village, the 20-something young woman. Some of them had never even been to the city, and were asking me questions about what it was like, and the few that had been to the city were asking me about what was going on there.

The only thing I was _slightly _disappointed in was the fact that there were no attractive young guys.

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_**Day 4, Spring, Year 1**_

Something strange happened to me today: something that I had most definitely _not _been expecting.

Today, I met a transvestite burglar.

Don't believe me? I'll tell you all about it.

Wandering around the village centre, staring at the stars after a hard day of working in my field and gathering wild produce for money, my attention was drawn to Lumina's mansion, as a sudden scream broke the calm, silent ambiance. Immediately, I found my feet moving of their own accord to the source of the scream, whilst my hands instinctually grabbed my axe from my rucksack. As I turned a corner to get to the luxurious mansion, all of a sudden, I found myself slamming brutally into a painfully solid object, and abruptly toppled to the cold, hard ground. Craning my head upwards, rubbing my bumped legs, I discovered the unexpected intruder in my personal space bubble laughing heartily. A leopard print top that was wide open at the collar to reveal the bare chest, daringly tight purple trousers, and a strikingly effeminate face stretched into a wide grin - this man/woman was actually rather good at being a man/woman.

Just as I was about to ask the rather stupid question of what conditioner he/she used to achieve such a brilliant silver shine to his/her hair, he/she lifted me easily up off of the ground, still chuckling loudly and without any inhibitions. I looked up at his/her face, ready and willing to thank him/her for their assistance and apologise for slamming into them so terribly, when he/she beat me to the punch and began, "Good evening, fair maiden." Without delay, my eyebrows shot up into the black hole that was my hair, in total surprise. Mr/Mrs Tranny was _flirting _with me? Or was I horribly misinterpreting the suggestive grin he/she bore?

"Wha-?" I grumbled, confused.

Winking, the man/woman said huskily, "Darling, naturally beautiful ladies such as yourself should not be walking around in the middle of the night. Danger lurks in late evenings, my night angel, and I would be heartbroken if one as stunning as you were to be hurt." Okay, the possibility of misinterpretation had just there gone flying out of the metaphorical window. I gripped my suddenly remembered axe, staring cautiously at him.

"Thanks for your concern Sir/Miss," He/she raised an eyebrow at this, obviously amused, "but I am perfectly fine by myself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to my friend's aid-" I was interrupted by another screech from Lumina, and rapid footsteps hurrying along the stone road.

A loud, indignant cry echoed around the street, ringing round all of the buildings, as Lumina, obviously out of breath, shouted, "Stop, thief!" The silver haired man/woman turned, smirking impishly.

"Anger does not suit your gorgeous face, my lady." Suddenly stopping dead in her tracks, Lumina gasped in surprise, bringing her hands up to her cheeks in shyness and blushing copiously whilst I looked on, utterly dumbfounded. The man/woman turned back to the road ahead, before swivelling round to wink at me. "Till next time, beautiful." And, as sudden as he/she had appeared, he/she had vanished, with his/her dancing silver eyes and his/her bag of costly loot, into the night.

Lumina caught up to me, panting from her sprint. "What a smooth talker, eh?" She suddenly erupted into a fit of giggles, blushing.

I shook my head in disbelief, absentmindedly muttering to her as my gaze crawled over to the space the thief had just vacated, "Yeah..."

Smooth as silk.

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**I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. :) More Skye next chapter! :D**

**Do you think I'm doing good, great, or atrocious? I can take it; just tell me if you want. :) **

**Bye! X3**


	3. Chapter 3: Little Old Me

_**EDIT**_ – _Have revised this chapter. NOW INCLUDES A BRIEF APPEARANCE FROM A CHICKEN! :D_

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**Hey, guys! :) I realise that this chapter is rather short, but I'll be posting another one up tomorrow to make up for it. How are you all? I'm doing alright, aside from the fact that I've got a bit of a cold, leading to a sore tummy, when I'm one of the main characters in a play tomorrow. Oh, and I have no understudy. :l *ugh***

**Anyway! Xl Let's forget about the slight predicament I am facing, and on with the pre-fanfic stuff! **

**Tinkies**_ - _Aw, thanks! I hope you enjoy this short chapter, and the next one.

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK!**__** - I do not own Harvest Moon. If I did, the Harvest Sprites would be totally rad hip. Yo, my homies. Brothers from lots of other mothers. Yo, dawg. Peace.**_

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Chapter 3 – Little Old Me

_**Day 5, Spring, Year 1**_

Today, I had tea with Lumina and the girls - 'the girls' being every 20-something female in Forget-Me-Not-Valley. As expected, Lumina whined perpetually about 'The Phantom Thief' stealing one of her bracelets.

"I know it was really cheap, at _only _10,000G," We all cringed in disbelief at what she thought was cheap - my flinch being especially jerky as I thought of the unfulfilled flowery wallet sitting in my back pocket that currently housed approximately 5 extremely lonely pieces of gold, after I spent all of my savings in buying a bundle of useless cooking utensils from a phoning company (realising abruptly after finalising the purchase that I didn't yet have a kitchen), "but I rather liked it! It went with everything!" Pausing and mumbling lightly, the well-to-do Lumina shook her head sadly, before suddenly snapping her eyes up to us, whispering conspiratorially, "Although, The Phantom Thief Skye really was_ handsome_, wasn't he?" She directed this statement to the general area in which I was seated, nibbling a cake, with a swish of her manicured hand. Everybody was suddenly leaning over the table, eyes glinting in expectation, to see what I would say about the silver haired transvestite.

Leisurely savouring the huge chomp of swanky strawberry shortcake that I had just vacuumed up from my plate to my eager and equally huge mouth, I eventually swallowed, slowly licking my lips. Finally, I answered, unconcerned, "I'm not really into that sort of thing, myself." There was a long, confused pause, in which everybody seemed to silently mouth what I had just said in utter bewilderment.

Clearly perplexed, Celia asked me, "What do you mean?" I was about to reply, 'you know, boy/girls', when Lumina interrupted me, shrieking a melodramatic "Why-y-y-y?" into the room, sobbing uncontrollably for her lost, '_cheap_' piece of costume jewellery. Rolling her eyes at me, Celia snorted quietly at the antics of our mutual friend, whilst the other girls attempted to soothe the hysterical heiress. In response, I grinned widely, agreeing with a muted little bark of laughter.

I have a feeling that Celia and I will soon make very good friends of each other.

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_**Day 15, Spring, Year 1**_

Not much has been happening, this past little while. I've spent most of my time meticulously preparing my field for grazing animals, trying to play tic-tac-toe with my quite understandably miffed new chicken Mr Cluckles – I once saw on the news a chicken who could beat humans at the game, and was determined to experience it firsthand ever since - watering and harvesting my precious crops, and toilet training my pets (this is terribly note worthy, and deserving of a place on my list of activities, right?). I'm being invited to tea parties on a randomly selected day of the week, every week, in Lumina's mansion, along with the other girls, to gossip, drink tea, and pretend we are rich enough to on such a magnificent abode. I've started to become accustomed to my new home, have accepted the creaks and the squeaks of the floorboards, and have been allowed by the wonderfully kind Ruby to shower and use certain _facilities _in the Inn, as I have no bathroom.

Yesterday was the Spring Thanksgiving Festival, according to Celia (and the forgotten cupcake themed calendar taped above my bed upon later consultation), who was slightly frenziedly happy to have found a box of chocolates with a note saying simply 'From Marlin' (how romantic...!) outside her bedroom door upon waking up that day. It became very apparent that every one of the Valley's 'eligible bachelors' (they're all rather...you know) was paired off with one of my new girlie friends.

So what about little ol' _me?_ Don't _I_ get anyone?

Are there no single, attractive, young men in this _God forsaken __**HELLHOLE?**_

"Well, there is Phantom Thief Skye." Celia giggled amusedly, laughing at her own little joke, before turning around to get something or another out of her drawer. I faltered, lowering my raised fists, sitting down, smoothing my hair.

Huh. Never thought of that one.

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**I told you it was short. :/ Forgive me for this heinous crime against fanfic nature. XD **

**Wish me luck with the play (it is Shakespearian, you know!), and, if you feel like it, go ahead and drop a review. Dawg. Yo. Rad.**

**Buh-bye! X3**


	4. Chapter 4: Strawberries Stolen

_**EDIT**__ – Revised._

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**Hi, guys! :) That is, if anybody is actually reading this...:l 2 reviews for 3 chapters...hmm. Xl**

**On the flipside, I did the first showing of my play today (A Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare - I'm Queen Hermione!) , and it went really quite well. :) **

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK**__** - I do not own Harvest Moon. If I did, Darryl would be mayor. That's right. You're all effed now! :D**_

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Chapter 4- Strawberries Stolen

**Day 27, Spring, Year 1**

You'll not believe what happened today. I was once again walking home from a yet another glorious tea party with the girls.

Dawdling slightly, I began to kick up dirt with my feet just to see it be blown away by the light wind that had picked up slightly, and rapidly chomped into the gigantic gourmet doughnut that Lumina had supplied along with the tea. I turned left, up the path to my farm, before stopping to tie my loose shoelace. Straightening, I continued mirthfully, skipping every other step, beginning yet another game in my head ruling that if I didn't I would be forced by myself to do ten handstands and a cartwheel on the grass.

_Munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch_

I hummed jovially, barely noticing Pop run up to me, barking insistently. Instead of paying any heed to his woofs of enthusiasm, I picked him up, scratching him behind his ear in an attempt to calm his excitement and convince him to return to the lounging Lolly who remained in the same place I had left her that morning: yawned widely, soaking up the sun from her place beside a nervous Mr Cluckles' outdoor pin, watching him intently. However, after much struggling on his part, I set him down on terra firma once more and he immediately bolted for my largest crop field. To settle his barking, I decided to humour him, opening the gate to let him in to lush, long grassed field. Once more, he scarpered, making a run for some place or another. Shrugging, I followed him, to make sure he didn't dig up my produce.

Munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch

I hacked through my elongated green lawn, unruffled. But, noticing the disturbed dirt leading up to my outgrowth, I stopped. The tracks making a pattern in the ground were not from my dog, but from big boots that dragged slightly at points, as though the person wearing them had stopped frequently along the way before continuing. In my brief confusion, I didn't notice the rather prominent lack of fruit on the surrounding stalks, spending a few seconds in concluding what I thought was a feasible explanation: must've been Takakura. Walking on, I rapidly became my usual relaxed self, and sighed happily as I pushed through the long stalks.

Munch...munch...munch...munch...munch...munch...munch...munch...munch...

Slowing the wolfing down of my doughnut, I cut through the last bit of tall grass before the neat alcove of my crops, before suddenly stopping, stunned.

Munch...Munch...Munch...

...

"What the hell are you doing with my strawberries?" The man froze, startled, and a few seconds crawled by, with us just standing there, Pop looking on, wagging his tail in a thoroughly satisfied fashion. Coughing, the man moved his head, and all of a sudden I noticed the bright silver hair flowing freely from his scalp.

Is that...? No, it can't be.

...

_It is!_

"Gwagh!" I blanched, my mouth dropping into a flabbergasted gape.

_Stalker! _

"I thought you were at a tea party." He said simply.

_Dear God, have I got pepper spray, holy crap oh God Almighty_

"Are you Skye?" I asked, in a nervously squeaky voice, unable to stop myself, "The, uh, Phantasm Thief...?" Another pause. He/she turned round to look at me properly.

He/she snickered, correcting me lightly, "_Phantom _Thief, beautiful." I leaned my head to the side, shifting it again and again in a sort of suddenly formed nervous tick, inwardly cursing at my mistake.

I began to nod somewhat dementedly, though at what I wasn't quite sure, replying, "Alright. Alright. Sure." I bit my lip, jumpily budging my feet from side to side. After a moment of silence, I could no longer stand the quiet and made a desperate attempt for some form of noise, beginning pathetically, "Cough, cough..." I paused, "_cough_."

_Awkward, much?_

Scratching the back of my head enthusiastically in an attempt to cloak my worry over my poor red crops, mouth wobbling slightly in a held back sob as I imagined their fright at being kidnapped, before remembering that they were indeed just fruit and getting back to the conversation. Tentatively, I asked, "What were you doing with my strawberries?"

Sniggering, he/she replied sardonically, "I was _borrowing_ them, my lady." I scratched the back of my head again, and my eyebrows knit together in frustration.

I began to nod again, in much the same manic way as earlier, "Yeah. 'Kay. No! What? You _liar_." I folded my arms, shaking my head. I sighed, grasping hold of my fright at his/her intrusion, and started to calm again, reasoning, "Look, I won't press charges. And, if you really like my strawberries that much, you can just buy them straight from me. How 'bout that?" He/she raised an eyebrow.

C_reepy._

"What is your name?" I bit my lip, unsure, and frowned. He/she's eyes sharpened in curiosity, as he/she joked drolly, "You don't know your name?"

"Pfft. Pf. Pfffft. No. I - hmm. I just..."

_You're creepy; Stalker. _

_Creepy stalker!_

"My name. Uhm. _Uh_. Uhm. Hmm. My – uh – my name, uhm. Uhm..." He/she smirked, put his/her hands in his/her pockets, and leaned closer.

"Yes?" I twiddled with a piece of string hanging off of my dungarees, brushing imaginary lint off my shoulders, humming.

_Oh. You know what, screw it. Tell him/her, if you want._

_..._

_Go on, it's fine, don't worry._

"Cough. _Cou-u-u-gh_."

_Oh, for..._

"So?" I snapped my head back up, to see him/her gazing at me intently with a smirk, eyes dancing in amusement.

_Whuh-oh. He/she is looking at you. Think fast!_

I faltered, forgetting in my slight panic what I was supposed to be saying, "Huh, hm? Wha...?"

"Your name - what is your name?"

_Just do it! Tell him/her your name!_

_**NO!**_

_What?_

_**It is I, paranoia!**_

_*gasp*!_

_**Don't tell him/her! It's a trap! He/she could be a secret evil agent! You don't know! He's/she's a creepy stalker! DON'T DO IT! THEY'RE ALL OUT TO GET YOU!**_

_Just tell him/her!_

The voices in my head (wow, that didn't sound crazy) stopped at that assertive command, and I suddenly focused, looking straight into his/her eyes, declaring proudly, "Jill," I grinned, "My name is Jill." He/she smiled, his/her ivory teeth glinting happily.

"Ah. Lovely name for a beautiful lady." I nodded absent-mindedly, not really giving much to this compliment, as I still didn't know what gender beheld this strange burglar.

"Thanks."

"I think I will be seeing you later, Jill."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely."

Another short pause.

"...To buy strawberries?" I asked, hopeful. Laughing heartily, he/she shook his/her head, and I tutted.

"Not quite. Goodbye."

With a certain disappointment at the failed sale, I conceded, "Oh, alright, bye." He/she began to walk off, before suddenly stopping, turning back with a wicked glint in his/her eyes.

"I almost forgot," He/she walked forward to me again; "I heard something, some gossip from that Lumina girl, whilst she chatted with her friends." He/she walked closer and closer, much too close for comfort, completely destroying my imaginary space bubble. I fidgeted, uncomfortable yet again, trying to tiptoe slightly away. He/she grabbed a hold of my arm, holding me in place.

_**Wuh – oh.**_

_Wuh-oh._

My paranoia and social common sense mind inhabitants kicked into action, alarming me.

"Whuh-oh," I mumbled, dejectedly. He/she leaned closer. I could feel his/her breath on my face. It was _very _uncomfortable.

"I heard her say," he/she smiled, lowering his/her volume, "that you thought I am transgender...?"

_Whup!_

_**Didn't see that one coming. **_

I blanched yet again, "Puh- -"

"I just wanted to tell you," The now _he _leaned closer to my face, and I turned completely white, "That I am all man." He suddenly pulled me up standing, let go of me, and ran off, laughing warmly. As he ran, I managed to hear one last shout, "And thanks for the _delicious_ strawberries!"

_Oh. _

I looked down to my crop field, now completely vacant of the said red, seeded fruit.

_Hm._

I sat on the ground, scuffing up the back of my trousers even more.

"Stupid Transylvanian Transsexual."

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**What'd you think? :) Review, if you feel like it. And the whole "Transylvanian Transsexual" thing happened because I was watching **_**Rocky Horror Picture Show**_** the other day, and I felt like slipping in a reference. XD**

**Once again, review if you can be bothered, but I won't press it further. Meh. :l**

**X3**


	5. Chapter 5: Disinfectant

_**EDIT**__– Revised. _

_NB. An edit - 'that movie' being Speed 2 (although I was more inspired by the Father Ted episode 'Speed 3')._

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**Hey guys! :) How you all doin'? I finished the run of my Shakespeare play, and it went well. I messed up twice - seriously the worst feeling in the world. I almost cried on stage! :( But, being the actress that I am, I didn't let it show. My mum, in the audience, said she couldn't tell I'd made a mistake, so it's 'kay. :)**

**This chapter is the biggest yet, at 3214 words (not counting pre and post fanfic junk!), so I hope you enjoy it! :D**

_Tinkies_: Thanks! :) Yeah, that's what seems to be going on exactly. Last time I checked, _**there was 221 hits for my story**_, but, as you know, there is only _**4 reviews**_. Meh. :l I'm not really worried, though. I think that, once the fanfic is completed, I'll get more reviews, anyway. I love writing, but it's nice to get a little feedback, y'know? :) Thanks once again for the review! :D

_xBenihimex_: Wow, thanks so much! :D You made my day, I'll tell ya. Wha...? _Double_ chocolate chip, you say? YAY!~ X3 Munchmunch - hope you - munch - enjoy - munchmunch - this chapter, then! Munchmunchmunch...:D

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK!**__** - I do not own Harvest Moon, or any of its characters. If I did, I would make more Skye get squashed into it. :3**_

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Chapter 5 – Disinfectant

**Day 1, Summer, Year 1**

Wow! Today was _really_ great! There was a festival on the beach, and I got loads of delicious food completely and utterly free – hells yeah! I also met another guy, praise be to the Lord, whose name is Kai. He's some kind of traveller, who comes to the Valley only in the summer. When I asked him why he journeys in the summer, munching happily on a corn cob he had grilled for me, all he said was,

"Spring is okay, but not sunny enough." He flipped over a thick, marinated steak on the barbeque grill before him, continuing as he splashed some sauce and scattered salt and pepper over it, "Autumn is boring - all dry leaves and no warmth! Winter is awful, the worst time of the year." He frowned thoughtfully, shaking his head, "I hate winter. I don't think I would be able to make friends with anybody who said winter was their favourite season. It's far too cold, and the sun is never out. Yuck!" Pausing to move the steak over to a plate with a salad, he suddenly smiled, "...Summer, however? Summer's perfect. It's when you experience the greatest moments of your life, and you grab a little piece of sun heaven." Out of the blue, a huge grin spread across the length of his face, and he stared at me impishly, "Plus, you see girls in their bikinis!"

Hmm, what a joker, eh? I don't know about bikinis (I once lost my bikini top after accepting a dare to jump off a waterfall), but I quite like summer, too. I like all of the seasons actually, and I've never really thought about which of the seasons is my favourite. Spring is lovely, and everything turns over a fresh new leaf, which I love. Summer is just as Kai said, beautiful and sunny! Autumn is full of colour, and the transformation of the landscape starts again. Winter - well, I like winter. It reminds me of a number of things, all of them great memories. Time I spent playing here as a child, before my mum and I moved away, leaving my dad. I remember running everywhere, never stopping or slowing down – and whenever somebody tried to make me slow down after witnessing my many painful falls to the ground, I would simply claim that it was of vital importance that I kept running, as I was 'like that movie' in that if I stopped running, I would blow up. Another brilliant thing about winter is that there are some great festivals – and there's snow, and of course, my birthday! Let's hope I can still be friends with Kai, huh!

...

Ouch! I've got a bit of a tummy ache from eating too much food. My mum was right; I've always been a sucker for a bargain - especially when the bargain is actually entirely free. I guess I'll go for a nap. What a lazy day I've had. I didn't have to do much work, as it's a festival day! I'm so lucky being out here in the Valley. I never really realised. There was never such a great community spirit in the city, never. It was every man for himself. Now, I'm making friends, raising a farm to its previous splendour, and...

That's enough. I'm going for a nap.

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**Day 5, Summer, Year 1**

Today was Muffy's birthday!

...

And I spoke to Skye!

Which would you rather have heard first? I don't really know what would be more interesting. But, I digress; onto the party. Yes, Muffy held a party for her birthday, up in her room in the Bar. It was actually quite good, you know. Everybody got a teensy, tiny, miniscule bit _absolutely drunk. _Except me, surprisingly. Following my previous _The Day After _that lasted _a week_, the hangover to end all hangovers, after which I woke up vomiting in a cart of the largest rollercoaster in Europe, I resolved to never drink to excess ever , I'm impressed I've been able to keep that resolution for this long. God knows that, when I get a bit tipsy, it soon turns into blazing drunk. I think that, keeping in mind that I have animals to look after in the morning, crops to water, and lots of puking down the toilet to not do, I shouldn't really drink. Therefore, I didn't. And, I'm exceptionally glad, after seeing what the others did when they drank too much.

Lumina started telling us fairytales that were _very _disturbing. Think _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves _meets _Silence of the Lambs_. Mm-hmm. Flora started to sing songs from _Grease_. Badly. I mean, _really _badly. I'm no _Simon Cowell_, but even I could tell that the girl had no _X Factor_.

I'm on a quoting rampage, here. Somebody stop me.

Celia. She's my good friend, but I have to say. I never thought she would be such a bipolar drunk, I swear to God. After 4 drinks, she was happy as hell, hugging everybody, with plenty of _"I luv yoush" _to go around. After 5 drinks, a bottle was smashed, and people within 5 feet were in _serious_ threat of _mortal chibbing_. Nami, however, can actually handle her drink quite well. She tended to sit about, randomly falling asleep, and was the only one who was not making a complete fool of herself. And now we come to Muffy. Dear Muffy. Birthday Girl Muffy. 21 Year Old Muffy. Muffy, the woman of the hour.

She could not stop projectile vomiting. _EVERYWHERE._ I am traumatised forever. Things I saw where _never meant to be seen._

So, can you really blame me for leaving early? At midnight, everybody dropped to the floor, well and truly out of it. Being the friend that I am, I tucked everyone into their beds, cleaning up most of the...stuff that Muffy had produced. Not all of it. Even the greatest friend in the world has her limits. Mopping chunks of heaved up crap off of the ground is mine. The line has been drawn, people. When I left, it was half past midnight. I crossed the silent threshold, sighing to myself, when I was suddenly knocked to the floor. Face first.

"_Gotcha!_"

"_AAHH! AGH! AAAAAAHHHHH!_" I struggled, instinct kicking in, "Get off! _**I've got mace!**_"

I heard a gasp, and the weight immediately jumped away from my body, as the person apologised profusely, "Oh, Jill! I'm sorry. I thought you were the Phantom Thief!" Griffin hauled me to my feet, brushing off my shoulders, muttering another apology. I reluctantly accepted it.

"The _Thief_? Do I look like the thief, Griffin? Maybe you should check with Doctor Hardy about getting your eyes tested." I mumbled, rubbing my hip which had been bumped quite badly in my fall. Griffin's eyes bored down into the floor, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, ashamed, "Why were you expecting Sk-" I paused, realising that Skye's burglar title was far too cool to not utilise at every available opportunity, "...The Phantom Thief, anyway?"

Griffin sighed, his eyes travelling upwards, and my eyes followed. We stared at the ceiling for a few seconds – though I had no clue why – before he started fumbling with something in his pocket. He soon pulled out a small, rolled up scroll, and fiddled with it, pulling at the string tying it up. The piece of string fell to the floor, and he peeled the scroll apart. He sighed again, his eyes travelling upwards once more, "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but, since you were going to leave, anyway..." I stared at him, bewildered, and he passed the ivory scroll over to me. I sniffed the air, noticing a change.

"Is that perfume?" Griffin nodded gravely, pointing to the scroll.

_Hmm, it smells of roses. How nice!_

I looked down to the item of interest, my own curiosity peaked. I was met with a fancy script hand, straight out of a calligrapher's dream. Muffling a few giggles at how very lady like all of this was, I read the writing.

_Uh oh._

I dropped the scroll from my hand, biting my lip.

"_To the owner of The Blue Bar._

_I hope you are well. I am writing to inform you of a heist I will soon be partaking in, on the 5__th__ day of summer at midnight, which, alas, involves you and your bar. _

_I will be 'borrowing', if you like, the most expensive drink in your possession. _

_You may think you can stop me, but, as I am advising you through this note, it will only end in more tears if you try. _

_Good luck, nevertheless. _

_Phantom Thief Skye_"

I looked up at Griffin, shocked. He bent over, picking up the scroll, carefully tying it back up, "I didn't want to say anything. It's Muffy's birthday, after all. It would have ruined her party." At this, I could not help but roll my eyes, thinking back to the many horrors that the party had unleashed upon the world. "I thought I could stay down here, and stake out the bar and stop that damned Thief, once and for all. He said he'd be here at midnight, but he's late," I looked down to my watch, to see that he was indeed very late. It was 00:47am. "I was actually about to give up, but then you came in, and..."

"And you throttled me." I finished for him.

"Sorry."

I stifled a yawn, growing tired from my lack of sleep. I shook my head, "...'S alright. Don't worry 'bout it." I rubbed my eyes. "So; are you going to stay up any longer?"

"I don't think so: I need some sleep, to be honest." He yawned loudly, his hand over his mouth. "Listen, I need to take a nip to the bathroom, and I also need to lock up after you. To be safe, can you wait here till I get back, and then I'll lock up? I don't want to leave the bar unattended and unlocked with the threat of a burglary being thrown in my face."

"Can't you just do it now?" I asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Sorry, Jill. This is a bar, and that means the main door has about 20 locks. And my body can't wait for 20 locks."

_Eww, TMI._

"Fine." I grumbled, annoyed as I realised that I was being held back from watching the weekly episode of _Female Super Detective Super-Duperdy-Duper X_. Griffin thanked me, rushing off to the bathroom, and I turned round, to the bar area, sitting down on one of the many worn stools. Reading the various labels adorning the bottles absentmindedly, I yawned yet again.

"_Creeaak._"

The front door opened. I didn't look back, as I found my head suddenly glued in position, muscles tense and unyielding in my sudden spurt of fear. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up in fright. My eyes grew wide with terror. My heart jumped out of my chest to sprint out of the bar, shouting 'eff this shiz!'.

"_Thump._"

The door slammed shut, and a few seconds of agonising stillness passed before footsteps began to drag deliberately slow along the wooden floor. My breath hitched in my throat, and my right hand slowly twitched to my mouth, as though to cover screams I was longing to let loose. Trailing over the counter, my left hand grabbed the first bottle under its grip. The footsteps suddenly stopped, a mere few feet behind me. The excruciating quiet practically killed me, and I dug my fingers into the bottle I was holding. One more footstep sounded, gently hitting the ground, and I felt the presence of the person reaching closer.

"Why...hello there." As soon as this seductive greeting was uttered, I whipped round, smashing into the man, sending us both crashing to the floor. Breathing heavily, I raised the bottle above my head, ready to attack. That is, I was ready to attack, until I saw the man's face.

_Oh, for God's bloody- - _

Skye grinned, chuckling, "As much as I _love _that you are so happy to see me," I gaped, completely befuddled, "Would you mind if I requested that you get off of me? Not that I don't like the closeness..." He laughed, giving me a quick, flirtatious wink for good measure in what seemed to be a strange habit of his. I folded my arms, clucking my tongue. His eyes flickered, looking at the unused bottle still residing in my hand. Grinning, he turned back to me, "What were you planning to do with that?" He asked, amused. I stood up off of him, placing the bottle down on the counter. He didn't bother trying to get up, and just sat, staring at me.

"I thought that you were a burglar." There was an awkward pause, before Skye laughed a loud, hearty bark. I held out a hand, helping him up.

Brushing his self off, he continued to chuckle quietly, pointing out, "Well, you were right, weren't you?" I nodded slowly, realising that I was, and smiled at my own ignorance. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I'm about to do something that I think you will not like in the slightest." I gawked, totally blank.

"What do you- - ?"

"_Maiden Chick Beam Fire!_"

Before I had time to tell him off for interrupting me, I was once again cut short by a spectacular light flying out of Skye's hands, hitting me straight in the chest. I froze completely, unable to move. Resisting the urge to go 'oohh' in amazement, I glanced up at Skye, who was moving behind the bar. I soon lost sight of him, as I am obviously and unfortunately unable to turn my head past a 180 degree angle. I instead relied on my hearing. A few clinks from bottles moving, shuffles, and footsteps. I sighed.

_When will Griffin get back?_

"...So." I decided I might as well attempt to initiate a conversation with him. "What's up with you?" I ended, pathetically. I heard a chuckle.

"Nothing much: same old, same old," I smiled, expecting just as much from the silver haired thief, "How about you, beautiful? Why do you think that we keep running into each other?" I contemplated this, shrugging my shoulders as best I could whilst frozen. Eventually, I thought up an answer.

"Destiny, I suppose."I joked.

Skye laughed, yet again, "Indeed, indeed."

Silence fell over us again, as Skye began to concentrate on his task once more. A question popped into my head, and I felt an immediate impulse to voice it, inquiring quietly, "Why do you steal?" The noises emanating from Skye suddenly stopped. He walked back over to me, moving closer. I heard a tentative sigh before Skye walked back behind the bar, and the noises resumed. I exhaled to myself, having been unnerved by the silence.

"I can't do much else, I'm afraid. Stealing is what I do. Nothing else appeals to me, really." I gave a few measured nods, hesitant in agreeing, but feeling as though I must show some understanding.

An idea hit me – albeit a rather unlikely one – and I instantly verbalised it, "Why don't you work on my farm?" The noises stopped, once again. A few seconds passed, with me straining to look back at Skye. A loud thump suddenly sounded, something metal clinked against the floor, and a triumphant 'ha!' was heard.

Moving back into my peripheral vision, Skye grinned brightly at me, answering simply, "I am very grateful for your concern, my stunning Jill. But, as I said, only burglary is for me. Thank you, though." I nodded vacantly, already knowing what his answer would be. He continued, glancing at the door out, "Now, I'm afraid, I must be going! I have obtained what I was looking for, and I believe your bearded friend," he gestured in the direction of the bathroom, "the bartender, will be back soon. And there would be a lot of trouble if I got caught, I'm sure."

"I suppose you are right." Skye agreed quietly with me, and moved forward slowly to the exit, "Goodbye!" I said, cheerily. Skye stopped, just as his hand had landed on the door handle. He turned back, smiling the softest grin I'd seen him bear since meeting him.

Quietly, he mumbled, "Yes." He walked forward, closer and closer, and soon, I was in the same situation as in the strawberry incident. Except, this time, I was frozen. And he was stuffing a dusty wine bottle into a black rucksack he was carrying. Finishing putting the bottle away, he looked back up at me, and leaned closer, his face in front of mine.

_Gwagh. _

He smiled.

And kissed me on the cheek.

_GWAAGH!_

"_**Flush...**_"

We both turned our heads in the direction of the noise, Skye leaning over me, grinning, "Time to go!" He turned back to me, his sly nature back in place. He winked, chuckling, before grabbing the door handle, and bolting out of the bar.

"Jill?" The door leading to Griffin and Muffy's rooms opened, and I heard a loud gasp. "The Okuhattan!" Griffin ran behind the bar, searching for the bottle of expensive 'Okuhattan' that Muffy had told me about before. Groaning loudly, he swung round to fall down on a stool, his head in his hands. "It cost 50,000G...and it's gone." He heaved a sigh, staring at the ground. A couple of minutes passed.

I coughed. Hesitantly, I inquired, "...Griffin?" He looked up, as though he'd only just remembered I was there, and stared at me, expectantly blank. I continued, "Uhm. I' m stuck." He raised an eyebrow, confused. "Skye used some kind of magic on me. I can't move."

Griffin jumped to his feet, suddenly worrisome, his eyes wide, "He attacked you? Are you alright?" He darted forward, moving my arms, to see if he could. Apparently, I could still get my limbs moved by other people, but I couldn't do it myself. "How dare he, that bas- -"

"Griffin!" He stopped, stepping back. I moved, stretching my legs, the spell diminished. "I'm fine. But..." He looked up at me, concerned.

"But...?"

"I'm sorry I let Skye steal your stuff." I mumbled apologetically. Griffin smiled weakly, patting me on the shoulder.

"Ah, don't worry about it – it's not your fault. It's that damned Thief's fault." I looked down at the floor, biting my lip.

"I think I'm just going to go home. I'll see you later."

"Alright. Bye." I walked towards the door, and Griffin turned back to the bar, sorrowfully closing the cupboard that once held the lost Okuhattan.

Pausing, I stopped in my tracks; I turned to Griffin, "Griffin?" He looked up at me, paying attention. I pointed up at the ceiling, and his eyes followed. "You might want to get some disinfectant." With that, I opened the door, walking out into the deep night, leaving behind a thoroughly confused bartender with a horrific surprise set ahead for him.

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**So, what do you think? :) Like, dislike...hate? XD **

**Do you guys like the pace I'm going at? Do you have any suggestions you'd like to make known, or things you'd like to happen? Go ahead and tell me, and I'll try and fit it in. :)**

**Give some feedback if you want to, and thanks for reading! X3**


	6. Chapter 6: G, Hs, and Terrifying Notions

**Hello, guys! How are you all doin'?**

**I missed you all greatly, I shall confess, haha! :) I am terribly sorry about the wait for this chapter, and I know that the lack of Skye will probably add insult to injury. However, I have been studying for my exams for a full year, and they are coming up soon. To be honest, I had not been planning to update until after my exams, but I have wanted to update for **_**forever**_**, so thought I should at least give you all something.**

**I felt rather extra terrible, truth be told, because after all my grunting and moaning about the lack of reviews, I suddenly got a huge response - and then promptly got so busy that I was unable to update! Ha! I am well aware of how bad that is, I assure you!**

**Anyway, I digress. Onto the thanks for all of my - may I please say it - exceedingly beautiful and fantastically intelligent reviewers who all very kindly gave me delicious COOKEHS! :D This chapter is dedicated to you all, for being so lovely, understanding and patient in waiting. Thank you.**

_The Queen of Espers: _Oh, wow, thanks very much - you are very kind, really made my day, there! :3 I hope that you enjoy this chapter, thanks once more. :)

_xXx Tinkies xXx: _Thank you for sticking around and reading this, I'm really glad that you're liking it so far. Yeah, I know, with you saying that I realised that it could have gone SO much worse, lol! XD You really helped to motivate me in carrying on with my writing, so a very special thanks to you especially! ^-^

_AnimeReallyIsMyLIfe:_ Wow, I actually really love your idea! :) I think I shall be using this in a later chapter, with your permission. Glad you are liking the story so far, thank you. :D

_SmilesWithEvilness: _LOL, haha, here you are! :3 ENJOY! XD

_Veronica Pop: _Everything's worth it if I get a laugh from a reader, so thanks! :) Thank you for reading. C:

_Procrastinating Writer: _Glad you like it so far, I hope you keep on reading. Thanks for the positive review! :D

_Strawberry Bijou: _Ooh, thank you! ^-^ I really wanted to make Jill likeable, that was one of my goals when I set out in writing, so that was a fantastic compliment. :3 Thanks!

_zummi16 (Rainbow): _1. Yay~ THANK YOU FOR THE COOKEH! :D 2. Jill's kind of slow in that way. -_- She knew that he was a man, but thought that he was rather girly, and was unsure if maybe he was a tranvestite, lol! XD ! WE ARE NEVER ALONE, MY FRIEND! :) There are many of us out there, after all! The sisterhood (or brotherhood) of crazy people with voices in their head, haha! you are like Jill - and that's a fantastic thing. :3 Glad you like it! Thanks! :D

_Unforseen Fortuity:_ Thanks very much, that's a huge compliment for me. :) You just gave me a boost in confidence - extra thanks! :3

_samfoxy234: _It is from Harvest Moon DS: Cute, featuring female protagonists instead of the normal DS games males. Thanks for the review! :)

_DragonFire Princess: _Very glad you like it so far, here;s an update, sorry it took so long! ^0^

_CanYouSeexILHARVESTMOON: _I know, I took forever! -_- Thanks for reviewing, glad you like it. I promise I shall read your story once I have time again, after my exam. Pinky promise! :)

_bandgeek14: _Thanks, really glad you like it! :D Heehee, I'm evil, getting you all dependent on my story, lol. XD Once again, thanks for review! :)

_Mooninlove: _Haha, glad you love it so much, thank you very much for review! :) Yeah, I was worried it would be cheesy if they fell in love at first sight - and let's be honest, that doesn't happen often in real life. :P So, thanks for that enormous compliment, cause that's exactly what I wanted to illustrate. Thanks again! :D

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK!**__** - I do not own Harvest Moon, or any of it's characters. If I did, I...hmm...Oh! YEAH, I would get a gigantic statue of Skye outside my house. Made of gold! :D**_

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Chapter 6 – Gossip, Hangovers, and Terrifying Notions

**Day 6, Summer, Year 1**

"_Uhhhh..." _

"_Puhhh..."_

"_Gahhh..."_

"_Yuuhhh..."_

"_Yugh."_

These groans of pain were the first thing to greet me this morning, when I wandered over to the Blue Bar, to see how my friends were fairing in the aftermath of a night dedicated to total hedonism. Needless to say, they weren't doing so well.

"How are you all?" The question I posed as I entered the attic room once more lay in the air, floating to the ground, crushed by the stifling silence. None of the sunglass donning, aspirin taking companions of mine that were covering their faces with their hands had the stomach nor the self awareness to pay any attention.

That is, until I deliberately threw the door shut in horribly loud fashion.

_**SLAM!**_

"_Bugger!_"

The girls' heads flew upwards in surprise, sunglasses slipping of in the sudden movement, and Lumina instantly shot up, only to immediately plummet back down into her seat again, clutching her stomach in pain. Surprised, Flora dropped the glass of water she was holding, allowing it to smash into the wooden floor. Chuckling to herself, Nami just smiled weakly, and returned to a book she had on her lap. Muffy moved her head to her pillow once more, promptly falling back asleep.

"Crap, Jill," Celia mumbled from underneath a scarf covering her face, "What the hell happened last night?"

I grinned from ear-to-ear, dragging a chair out from underneath the table and sitting down on it before snickering amusedly, "You got plastered." A few grunts of 'we knew that, stupid', 'tell me something I don't know', and 'asshole' echoed around the room, causing me to snigger quietly. "Well, you guys have got to learn your limits, I think."

"Uh huh." Celia muttered in sarcastic approval, already having learnt her lesson. "Why does the room smell so bad?" I immediately shot my arm up, pointing clearly at the sleeping Muffy causing Celia to raise an eyebrow in question. I replied with an unnecessarily graphic impression of vomiting. She frowned, twisting her mouth, sticking out a tongue. "Yuck," she groaned, inching slowly towards the blonde haired barmaid, cautiously turning the girl's head to the side to make sure she wouldn't choke on any more rejected stomach fluids coming up her throat. "Why are you alright?" She turned back to me, clasping her forehead in soreness.

"I didn't drink." All of the girls – barring the now completely unconscious Muffy – gave a small chortle at this, muttering 'lucky girl' to themselves. I was about to continue my bragging about not suffering from a hangover when the door suddenly slammed open once more, smacked off the wall, reflected back and effectively smashed into the face of the person on the other side. All of us flinched in surprise, wincing at the piercing din.

The person that failed so very epically at the door opening tried again, and we heard them grunt in pain, saw their hand grasp the side of the door for balance, and smelt a very distinct smell.

"Is that - -?" Nami's question was abruptly interrupted when Griffin's head suddenly popped into existence, poking round the side of the door, sporting a bloody nose, and effectively giving us all a heart attack.

Weakly, he confirmed her impending question, "I bought some hangover remedy soup from the doctor."

Smiling softly, Nami nodded slowly to herself, "I knew I recognised it," she said quietly, pushing herself up to grab a bowl from the newly revealed platter Griffin was carrying.

I jumped up, determined to make myself useful, declaring confidently, "Don't worry; I'll take care of it, Griffin." I gently removed the tray from his hands, hoping that my past experience as a waitress would come in handy in balancing the hefty meals. He smiled in thanks, not moving from beside the door as I distributed the soup amongst everybody, quietly placing a bowl on Muffy's bedside table so that she could have it later. As I handed back the silver tray, he beckoned me to come a bit closer. I complied, slowly edging forward until he grasped my shoulder, looking into my eyes.

"Are you alright?" I furrowed my brows in confusion at his delicately voiced concern.

"What do you mean?" I asked, tipping my head to the side, fiddling with one of my gloves. He looked to the girls, and I followed, in a strange imitation of last night, to see them all slurping in hushed tones.

Looking back at me, he scratched his head confusedly, "That thief," I blinked up at him, expectant for an elaboration, "He used a spell on you, remember? I wanted to make sure you were okay," I smiled, about to thank him for caring, when he added, "'cause, if you weren't, I was going to kill him."

My face fell, and I gave a lopsided frown, "Well." I struggled for words, eventually deciding on a half-hearted, "Thanks, I guess." Griffin nodded, completely straight faced and serious. I scratched my shoulder, where my bra strap was digging into it sharply. Frowning in frustration at the lack of relief it gave, I groused quietly inwards to myself, before remembering that I was in the middle of a conversation, turned my head back to Griffin, and bore my eyes into his, completely silent. He turned uncomfortable, needless to say, and he squirmed slightly, eyes darting about.

"What?" He asked quietly.

"Nothing, I just can't think of anything else to discuss, to be honest," I replied, shrugging lightly. A long pause passed before Griffin finally coughed, a sign of his impending departure.

"Oh. Bye, then."

"Bye." He shuffled slowly out of the door, quietly shutting it after him. I turned back to the girls, who were all almost finished with their soup. Celia was first, taking large spoonfuls of the remedy, wolfing it down at a fast pace, yet, somehow, made it seem far more elegant than the way that I would have eaten it. Sighing in satisfaction, she gently placed her bowl and spoon down on the table, leaning back in her chair as she rubbed her eyes, nuzzling her face into her worn, earthy green scarf. Soon, all of the girls completed their eating, and they too sat down, relaxing as the surprisingly tasty medicine began to take effect. I hummed softly, not knowing the tune on my mind, but not caring in the slightest.

"Jill?"

"Yes?" I swivelled my head around to face Celia, who had moved her chair closer to me, patting another near her. I sat down.

"You've got about five twigs in your hair."

I paused, extremely confused as to what she meant. "Is," I hesitated, thinking deeply back to my time living here, "Is that a country saying?" I asked, perplexed.

My new friend shook her head, snorting loudly, "Nope - I mean you really have got twigs in your hair." I reached up to pat my head, realising that she was indeed right – that, or I had horns growing out of my skull. Briefly, I considered this bizarre thought.

Impossible; but still pretty cool, anyway.

"Huh."

"Come sit here, I'll get them out." I complied, pulling myself up and shuffling my body over to the chair she was indicating, sitting and twisting round before she began to carefully pull out the sadistic little demons of nature. I continued to hum, twiddling my thumbs. "So, how did you get these in your hair?"

"_I fell_." I replied in an inaccurate, bolstered singsong voice, not wanting to stop the cheesy 90s pop song that I was somehow playing off tune within my own head.

"Well that's an unusual occurrence," Celia laughed sarcastically, "How did you fall?"

"Eh, I was chasing Pop around, and fell in a bush."

"Why were you chasing him? Didn't you have work to do?"

"I was halfway through watering my crops, thank you very much, when he _peed_ all over my new sprouts. It really was rather disgusting. People are supposed to _eat_ those, you know!"

"Oh." Celia used the single word, finding it sufficient to describe her emotions considering my simply _amazing_ story. She patted my back, turning me back around to face her. "Well, try to be more careful next time, okay, you total numbskull?" She said, giggling.

"Of course!" I replied happily, giving her a wide, toothy grin and a wiggling thumbs up, the picture of the phrase 'here thar be a rather proud numbskull'. She smiled, once again snorting slightly at my actions. I picked up her used spoon from her ceramic soup bowl and started throwing it in the air, trying to catch it.

"So, what'd you do last night when we got drunk out of our minds?" I threw the spoon too high at this, and it hit Celia square on the front of her head, smashing it unmercifully, causing her to yell in pain, "Ouch! Jill!"

"Oh, Goddess, sorry!" My hands flew over her non-existent battle wound, prodding the area gently to see if it hurt before they were swatted away by her commanding hands. She rolled her eyes, throwing the spoon onto the table, and I stared after it longingly. Clicking her fingers in front of my face in an attempt at drawing me back to her, she asked me a question that I didn't quite catch in my spoon induced depression. "Eh? What'd you say?"

"I said: What'd you do last night?" She answered, placing her head on her arms, yawning. I frowned thoughtfully at this, softly dropping my tired head on the table.

"I cleaned up Muffy's sick." I said, pointing at the blonde in the corner, still out cold.

Celia stuck out her tongue, wrinkling her nose, "Utterly fantastic."

"And I also sat at the bar, watching it for Griffin."

"Oh, right, that's quite cool."

"And, uhm, let's see." I pondered this a moment longer, "Ah, yeah, and that thief Skye walked in," Celia sat up, alert, "And he stole some of Griffin's stock."Celia sat in silence, mortified.

"Goddess, are you OK?" She suddenly asked in a high pitched mini shriek of fear.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm completely fine. Oh! And Skye cast a weird spell on me, and then kissed me on the cheek," Celia's eyebrows shot up, and her mouth opened up in a huge, open mouthed grin, "then I went home, and I watched TV for a little bit, and there was this really interesting programme about- -"

"_Jill!_"

I shot my head up from the table, startled, "What?" She slapped me over the back of the head. "_Ouch! _Hey!"

"Don't you think you should have said that first? It's a _bit _more important than you cleaning up Muffy's sick!"

"Well, Celia, _someone_ had to do it, and you were all out cold."

"That's not the - -" Celia grunted in frustration, rubbing her head, "...Ouch. Now I've got a headache, again. Ugh." She calmed down, mumbling to herself in displeasure. I waited a few moments before continuing my barrage of uncaring lazy-talk when she sighed, once again leaning into the table, propping up her head with her arms. "To be honest, I didn't really see this coming." I tilted my head to the side, greatly bemused by her glaring lack of explanation, staring at her, "By the Harvest Goddess, you've been kissed by the Phantom Thief." Before I could reply 'only on the cheek', a duvet flew across the room.

"_What now?_" Muffy suddenly shot up from her bed, and everyone in the room jumped 3 feet in fright.

"_Holy shi_z!"

"Eh, eh, language, now!" She scolded, swivelling to face me.

It was a rather stomach churning sight. Chunks of sick were strewn copiously throughout her matted blonde hair, her liquid mascara was smeared all over her face, and various doodles of differing artistic quality had been drawn in red lipstick all over her body. I gulped, edging my chair back and away from the fast approaching Muffy. She swiftly grabbed her bowl of remedy from her bedside table, strolled over to the table, kicked a chair out, and slumped into it. Taking her spoon, she began sipping lightly, sighing in relief. A pause crawled by at an alarmingly slow rate.

Eventually, Muffy dropped her eating utensil, and leaned back, placing her arms behind her hair. "Oh, yeah, that's right." She turned to me, pointing. "_What?_" She screeched.

"_Ah! Don't do that!_" We all yelled back, covering our ears. She waved dismissively, told us to shut up, and went back to pointing at me. "Jill! You kissed the Phantom Thief?" I nodded hesitantly, carefully avoiding her hands that were stinking of a mix of mind blowingly disgusting stenches.

"Well, actually, _he_ kissed _me_, on the cheek. No big deal."Her eyes widened, and I waved my hands in her face, violently shaking them to try and get a response. Finally she blinked, swatted away my hands, and scratched her chin in contemplation. She nodded, closing her eyes.

"...Bitch."

"Eh?"

"Nothing." She replied in a cheery voice, fastidiously removing invisible lint from her shoulders. I looked round at the other girls, to find that they were now all staring at me, grinning in amusement.

"I think what Muffy was trying to say is that you should speak to Skye, Jill." Celia said excitedly, patting me on the back. Muffy frowned, scratching her chin.

"That's not what I was trying to-"

"Do be _quiet,_ Muffy," Lumina whined annoyingly, doubling over as she clutched her forehead, "My head - _argh -_ has a bloody heartbeat..."

"Pfft, lightweight!" Muffy waved in dismissal at Lumina's low alcohol intolerance, putting her hands on her hips, sticking out her chest and propping herself up by placing one leg on the table. She yawned deeply into her hand, before striking a pose, hand over her heart. "Alcohol is the meaning of life, Lumina! The sooner you realise that, the better!" One of her feet suddenly slipped, and she tumbled, smashing her face into the side of the table. A weak groan sounded, as we all stood to help, before she jumped back up by her own accord, stretching her neck.

"The effects of a hangover, Muffy..." I mumbled sardonically, grinning.

"Shut up." Muffy quickly regained her composure, straightening her back. Turning to me once again, she fixed me under her harsh, commandeering glare that, I must admit, I found quite terrifying. She mumbled something to herself, the volume of her mutterings so minute that no human ear could ever hope to hear it, only shouting what she had said when the rest of us told her to speak up, "What are you going to do about it?"

At this, I remained confused, and she did not appear to care to enlighten me on the complex workings of her inner mind without further prompt, "Uh...What am I going to do about what, Muffy?"

"The _kiss, _damnable woman, _the bloody kiss! _What are you going to do about _the kiss_?"

"Nothing. I'm going to _do_ nothing because it _was _nothing."

At this, she leapt across the room with a large amount of bravado, pouncing on me, shaking her head so violently I rather thought she was suffering from some form of an epileptic fit, whilst she took such a cacophonously loud intake of air I believed she had seen the Grim Reaper.

"_**NO!**_" She slapped my face harshly for good measure as she swung the arms tightly clamped around my frame ferociously in emphasis of her statement, "_No, no, no, no, and no!_ That won't do at all!"

"_Jesus-frickin'-Kappa, Muffy!_"

"I refuse to let you waste such a glorious opportunity, Jillie! The Goddess has bestowed upon you a great sanctification - as my old neighbourhood preacher used to say - in the most important way! Forget about blessing your crops, what about-" She struck a dramatic pose and whipped her head round to look into the distance, hands clasped over her heart as I dropped back onto the carpet, "Your _love life?"_

Jumping up somewhat dizzily, rubbing the back of my poor, bashed cranium, I replied simply, "Muffy, I have no love life. There is no love life to be had here, my slightly psychotic yet still dear friend!" Upon hearing 'psychotic', Muffy frowned, a heavy and well-practised pout upon her lipstick smeared lips, which soon turned into a smug grin when I uttered 'dear'. She seemed to disagree wholly with my analysis of my pitiful romantic links potential, shaking her head rapidly. I continued, however, "There aren't any guys to date here, Muffy. All of the men I could even considerdating are paired off to the lot of you. Furthermore, I don't find myself terribly interested in a relationship right now."

I fluffed this statement here slightly, as I found myself _somewhat_ open to the idea of a manly hunk lifting me into the air with fireworks exploding in the background whilst I watered my crops at six o'clock in the morning. But, nevertheless.

"Why don't you even consider dating Skye, Jill?" Celia asked in curiosity whilst Muffy contemplated and picked over her mindbogglingly multifaceted philosophy of life.

"Eh, because he's a burglar, maybe? You guys always seem to forget or omit that little tidbit from your minds, you know. It _is _kind of important." I couldn't understand why all of the girls suddenly found themselves so interested in my relationships - or lack thereof - and why they were so seemingly obsessed with Skye and I's courtship (also conspicuously lacking in the thereof-ness). "Anyway, he's not into me, I think. He's flirty with all women, right?"

"Yes, but he doesn't kiss people on the cheek, I'm sure. He likes you," she smiled mischievously, "and, you must admit, it would be rather brilliant."

"'Brilliant'?"

"Think about it – here is the man that_ so_ many women have fawned over for _so _many years, hoping to attract his attention, and then up comes this unassuming city girl who sweeps in and steals the star prize, the all-important Phantom Thief of the East!" Celia laughed loudly, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear as she shook with her giggles. "I'm sure it would be hilarious, and he likes you anyway, so it's always an option you have," she shrugged her shoulders, "not that it makes any sort of difference at all if you don't like him back."

"...'Unassuming'?"

My affronted little grumble wasn't heard, however, as Celia continued on, "Ah, but that's the thing, isn't it? We haven't actually _asked _you if youlike him." She paused for a bit, waiting for my answer which I considered too important to blurt out without thinking. "So? Do you care for him in any way?"

I gave a neutral, carefully apathetic shrug, "Well, he's quite pretty, I suppose. Then again, he is a bit girly, and he steals for a living!" I paused, as my eyes dropped to the floor, "Yet still, in spite of this," I mumbled quietly, "he seems okay. Don't know if we would suit each other, though. I haven't dated in a while."

Celia's expression softened at this, and she seemed sympathetic, "Just because you've been out of the game for a little while doesn't mean that you've lost your touch. You can jump right back into the fray, and nab a guy while you're at it, I'm certain, if you wanted to." Kindly and sympathetic, she reassured me, patting me gently on the back as she squeezed my shoulder in comfort.

"Maybe. But, I don't know about Skye." She nodded, understanding.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. No need to worry, we're not going to force the both of you to date or something – _are we, Muffy?_" Celia turned to Muffy, a strained smile on her face as she ever so subtly hinted to Muffy to drop the matter. Muffy stared back, deadpan blank.

Soon, after a moment or so, she turned back to face me, fingers whisking and gliding over her chin thoughtfully as she considered her words (for once). Eventually, after a couple of seconds, she nodded, hands dropping to grasp her hips as she hummed in assertion at her decision.

"I have a plan."

I gasped loudly in horror at this terrifying notion.

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**Thanks for reading, everybody! :D**

**Please feel free to review, and make any suggestions about plot or extra storylines you would like to see happen, as I would like to create a community-formed fanfic. :)**


	7. Chapter 7: Bemused Existence Day

**Hi again, everyone! Bet you didn't expect an update so soon, huh? Well, neither did I, to be honest. -_-**

**Skye's back in this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy. :3 I know you were all wanting your Skye fix after that last filler chapter, so I thought I should be quick to update. :)**

**Also, please note that I have went back to edit my previous chapters, as I was unhappy with them. You don't need to go back and check the chapters out – the plot hasn't changed, I was just trying to make them more eloquent, so hopefully that was achieved. The only new addition was a chicken, Mr Cluckles, who will be mentioned in this chapter. **

_xXx Tinkies xXx_ – Glad you liked it so much, here's another chapter! ^-^

_DragoranHeartless__ – _Thanks for the review, your compliments were great and made my day. :3 I know what you mean about the paragraphing – I had been meaning to change the chapters for a while to get rid of this problem, so I took your review as a good prompt. You initiated the chapter edits, so thanks! :D

_Bandgeek14__ – _I know, I'm like that sometimes. :P I haven't updated one of my fanfics in years. -_- Thanks for reviewing! :3

_Tufted titmouse _– Here's and update, happy that you're liking the story! :)

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK!**__** – I do not own Harvest Moon, or any of its characters. If I did, you would see entire cities grounded to make way for my numerous farms! C:**_

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Chapter 7 – Have a Bemused Existence Day!

**Day 7, Summer, Year 1**

After Muffy declared her sudden and very much unexpected brain wave yesterday, she immediately began to usher us out of the room, remaining tight lipped and silent about any plans she had in mind. An evil smirk firmly set on her face, I could just about swear that, as soon as her pink bedroom door layered heavily with stickers slammed shut, a slightly muffled maniacal cackle of glee echoed through the hallway.

I parted ways with the girls when they all explained that, due to their still lingering hangovers, they wished to go home and rest. Not much else happened that day, aside from my entering of Mr Cluckles into the Chicken Festival that would take place the next day. After a few hours of sitting, literally just spent watching my newly sown grass grow, expecting it to hurry up if I put pressure on it (shouting at it every so often), I decided that I had given Celia enough time for a recovery nap and travelled over to her home, Mr Cluckles clutched closely to me.

It turned out that Celia was still conked out upstairs, exhausted from the night before, so I entrusted my beloved chicken with Vesta and the perpetually ebullient Marlin instead. My return home was spent pondering on the effectiveness of my training of Mr Cluckles (or Lord Cluckles, if he won the Chicken Festival) designed to ensure he was powerful enough to best opponent chickens in battle, with his regime consisting of being forced to sit in front of my television whilst I played infinite reruns of sumo matches.

Today I discovered how well I trained him, as I watched on the sidelines, screeching encouragement as he duelled with his fellow poultry. It had all been going rather well, until he came to the final round, in which a chicken who had been meticulously taught moves dating back to the Samurai in Japan bet him with a swift flurry of pecks on his head. He may not have achieved the title we had been hoping for, but I decided that in proud honour of his getting to the final, I would newly dub him Dr Cluckles M.D. All was well-

-Until I suddenly bumped into Muffy. Reassuring the apathetic Dr Cluckles of his near victory, declaring that next year I would train him in the ways of the ninja instead, a sudden, excited yell caused me to jump in surprise, "_Hey, Jillie!_"

Turning, I was immediately faced with the animated face of my platinum blonde friend, and responded, smiling at her cheeriness, "Hullo, Muffy." She grinned happily, coming to a stop before me, as she abruptly noticed the chicken tucked away in my arms. Seeming to realise what day it was, she muttered to herself 'chicken festival', and looked back up to me.

"Hi, hon'," She gave me a hug for good measure, "how are you today?" I had been about to respond 'ok, thanks', when she swiftly and unexpectedly continued, not bothering to wait for my answer, "So, yeah, I have something to talk to you about."

Bemused, I nodded, warily agreeing as I made a cautious note of her almost manic enthusiasm, "Alright, then, go ahead, Muffy."

"Cool, so," She looked about, eyes furtively glancing in every direction, and I followed, before out of the blue she pulled me a bit closer, whispering into my ear secretively, "Don't tell anyone, yeah?" I nodded, "Ok – get this. Lumina's birthday is on the 10th!"

Surprised, I moved away, shaking my head confusedly, "But I thought her birthday was on the 29th of Autumn."

Instantly, Muffy jumped on that, tearing it apart, "No, no! You're mistaken, I'm sure. I've known Lumina all of my life, Jillie, so would I get something like that wrong?"

I paused, thinking. Eventually, I conceded, "No, I suppose not. But why didn't she say anything?"

Waving her hand dismissively as she usually did, Muffy answered, "Oh, you know how Lumi is," she sniffed, looking away, "terribly shy."

Silence fell heavily on us. Still refusing to look in my eye, Muffy whistled innocently, twiddling her thumbs. Sceptic, brow furrowed, I mumbled, "Yes," nodding mechanically, I thought back to my many encounters with my arrogant, pompous friend, agreeing without any sense of conviction, "she is very shy."

Muffy grinned again, eyes flashing as she swivelled back round to me, "Good! Now," Once more, she leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "We're going to have a party for her, at 9pm, on the 10th. By the Goddess pond. Bake a cake, bring a present." And, with that stern command, she hurried off, grabbing the door knob to the Blue Bar and running inside."

Frowning, I thought deeply. Muttering under my breath, I pondered, "Something's up, there. She's lying." Slowly, I scratched the top of Dr Cluckles head, who was as indifferent as usual, "Maybe I shouldn't go. But I love parties!"Faltering, I corrected myself, "Apart from Muffy's parties."

Walking back up the path again, I decided happily, "I think I'll just go. What's the worst that can happen?"

Maybe that was just tempting fate, huh.

* * *

**Day 10, Summer, Year 1**

Home baked birthday cake held firmly in my hands and a wrapped box with a red bow tucked under my arm, I traversed the long path up to the Goddess Pond. I hummed quietly, finding some peace in the usual silence of the night, as I held back my clumsy feet slightly, paranoid that I would trip and drop the cake.

It had been painstakingly baked earlier that day, in Ruby's kitchen with the utensils I had deemed utterly useless the previous month. Delighted with my successful if somewhat wonky result, I dolloped a large splodge of icing onto the top of the sponge cake wedged together with a thick layer of jam. Haphazardly scribbling 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUMINAting LIGHTBULB' on the top with some highlighters I had found (that's not poisonous, right?), having conducted an unsuccessful search for an icing bag, I avoided the watchful eye of Ruby, and happily left with my treasure to prepare for the party.

My preparation consisted solely of washing the bird poop off of my hands after I cleaned out the chicken coop, housing a new bird named Mademoiselle Peckington. Following that, I just put on a slightly less broken hairband and waited until 8.45pm before I left. I reached the Pond purposefully early, pausing to throw in an offering of a flower for the Harvest Goddess, and went to sit on a tree stump.

After ten minutes, I was still the only person there.

Perplexed, I looked at my flowery watch, to find it the separate sunflower dials pointing cheerfully at the time '8.57.' Sighing, I looked around, wondering where all of my friends were. I hadn't seen any of them for a few days, having spent my time assisting Mademoiselle Peckington in adjusting to her new home. Thinking about that, I realised with a start that I didn't know if they were arriving with Lumina, and wondered if I was supposed to surprise her.

My thoughts were interrupted as I suddenly heard footsteps travelling quietly along the path to the Pond. Panicking, I jumped up, nearly dropping the cake, and flew over to behind a large tree, hiding beneath its long branches. The sounds got closer, and I prepared myself, making a split second decision to jump out on the surprisingly silent party. Just as the footsteps reached about a foot ahead of me, I jumped back out, cake held in glorious pride before me, present dropping to the floor as my arms reached above my head and I yelled mirthfully, "_Happy Birthday-y-y-y-y-y!_"

For a few minutes, no sound was made, as the whole world seemed to stop in time just to gawk at my confident idiocy. My eyes twitched in surprise, raised arms slowly coming down to hold the cake at the front of my stomach. Ignoring the obviousness of my statement, I affirmed:

"You're not Lumina."

The Phantom Thief Skye nodded, agreeing, "I'm quite certain I'm not, yes."

Yet another silence was held over my heads in what was becoming a depressing habit of my life. Blinking rapidly in the vain hope that if I did it enough, Skye would disappear and my friends would suddenly pop into existence, I mumbled, "Yeah, thought so. Yeah." Making a last-ditch attempt, I closed my eyes firmly, blocking out the world for 10 seconds before finally opening them. He was still there.

Skye appeared even more bemused than I did, if that was possible, yet still maintained his suaveness somehow, inquiring fluidly, "How did you know it was my birthday, angel?"

_**His **__birthday?_

_Oh, Muffy, you dastardly creature, you._

"Ooh-er," I breathed, suddenly understanding what had transpired. Making a mental note to keep an eye out for Muffy's obvious psychotic tendencies, I explained, "I was tricked."

He grinned, appearing a bit unsure of what I meant, but laughed, "What?" He shook his head, "Never mind, fairest maiden, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you are here, to celebrate my birthday with me," Smirking in satisfaction, he added, "I couldn't think of any other lady I would rather spend it with."

"Okay," I said, hesitantly, before continuing, a bit more sure of myself, "Okay; I know why I'm here. But why are you here?"

Abruptly, his relaxed posture straightened a bit, as if he had suddenly just remembered something important, "Ah. Well, I came to do work." My raised eyebrow and blank stare prompted him to explain, laughing quietly, "I had heard a rumour that a lady was coming through this place at 8pm. A very rich lady, if you catch my meaning."

I caught it, alright, and declared immediately, "But I'm not rich!"

A genteel yet strangely riotous laugh rang through the surrounding trees, as he answered, greatly amused, "Not you, dear Jill!" I relaxed, letting out a heavy puff of air in relief at the revelation that he wasn't planning on mugging me. He continued, "Of course not you. I wouldn't dream of harming a fair maiden, especially not you, my favourite beauty of all!"Scoffing quietly, I questioned the truth of his compliment, finding it difficult to believe that he really believed that – he really was a notorious flirt, after all.

After a moment, a thought beheld me, "I spent ages baking this cake. Do you wanna help me eat it all? It _is_ your birthday, after all." His eyes lit up, and flashed over to the baked treat in my hands as I bent down to pick up the fallen present, returning it to its place under my arm.

With what I could only assume was an attempted seductive tone, Skye agreed wholeheartedly, "Certainly, a treasure made with your own two hands would be the greatest birthday gift of all, night angel." Upon closer inspection of the cake, he remarked simply, "'LUMINAting LIGHTBULB'?" Without a thought, I swiftly removed my glove, scraped up part of the name with my (clean) fingers, leaving only the broken 'MIN' to signify that I owned the delight, and promptly shoved them in my mouth, to the glorious amusement of Skye who chuckled merrily.

Taking a step forward, grinning greedily as I tasted the sugary icing, imagining my imminent gorging of the baked treat, I forgot to hold back my feet slightly. As if some deity was watching intently and snatched the moment, declaring joyously 'bitch be trippin now!', without delay, my exploring foot suddenly discovered new land in the form of a large pebble, grabbing onto it determinedly. Hence, immediately thereafter, I plummeted.

And so did the cake.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion, and seemed to be begging for Chariots of Fire to be playing in the background as my mouth fell gaping open in horrified surprise, legs tying together and arms flying up with the cake which soared through the air along with the boxed present. Instinctually, Skye sprinted forward to catch me but was stopped by the crashing cake as it smashed onto his head, sending icing flying everywhere, and the sharp-edged warring present which struck him brutally as it fell to the ground.

Landing heavily on the ground face first, I let out a muffled yelp of pain as my raised leg somehow hit the back of my head. No word was uttered, and I was unsure if I should look up – what if I had killed him? Where would I hide the body? What's my alibi? _I can't go to jail - I've got two chickens and an odd couple of pets to feed!_

Out of nowhere, I heard a deep rumble begin. Alarmed, believing it was an earthquake or something similarly disastrous (it's much harder hiding a body when the entire world is trying to shake you off of it), I stayed still, panicking and going over hastily concocted plans (Mexico, I'm looking at you). The noise rapidly escalated in volume, and I hesitantly looked up to find Skye alive and well, thankfully (sorry, Mexico), guffawing loudly, icing dripping all over his clothes and over the lids of his closed eyes, flicking off his chest in time with his hysterical laughter. Wary of the possibility of his having suffered a psychotic break by getting icing water in his eyes, I didn't say anything, instead allowing him to ride the wave of demented, perpetual chortles.

Finally, he stopped his laughter. Silently bringing his clean hands to his saturated face, he brought them down, scraping off the majority of the gunk. His now free eyes flickered down to my mud streaked face as I spat out some grass I had nearly swallowed, brow furrowing at the unwelcome greenery in my mouth. At this sight, he quietly began to start chuckling again. Kneeling down, spreading more vanilla frost wherever he touched, he gently took a hold of my hands, smudging them with sticky sugar, and pulled me up.

Bringing a coated finger to his mouth, he licked the icing off in the same fashion as I had moments before, grinning impishly, "Delicious!"

Soundlessly, I picked up the now dented, sodden box, and placed it in his surprised hands. Nodding in approval at the sugariness of his new look, I declared, "Happy Existence Day!" With that, I turned, and began to walk off. Coming to the corner, I heard him suddenly break into a new bout of roaring guffaws, these even more raucous than the last. Smiling as I envisioned his opening of the box only to find the frilly pink set of underwear I had bought for Lumina (practical _and _pretty), I skipped a bit in my step.

Maybe it was time for me to get back in the game.

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**Hope you liked it, you guys. :D As usual, feel free to make suggestions for plot or review. ****Please note that my exams will start soon, so whilst I will try to update soon again, I wouldn't count on one until late May. ****Thanks! :)**

**(I forgot to point out before, but I am well aware that Lumina's birthday is not on the 29th of Autumn, but I'm doing that for the purposes of the story, so let's just pretend XD)**

**REVIEW, PEEPS! :3**


	8. Chapter 8: Bleu, Blue, Blueeeewww

**Hey again, everybody! :D Sorry this took so ungodly long – as previously mentioned, I had a month of exams, but then I also got sick, went on holiday to Dineyland Paris, and MY COMPUTER BROKE. TWICE. SRS. It was very distressing :C I thought that I had lost all of this chapter and was ready to start bawling – but, thank goodness, my documents were salvaged. Relief does not even BEGIN to express it, haha.**

**Anyway, to make up for the lateness, this chapter is utterly HUUUUGGGGEEEE TO DAH MAX (I am enamored with the caps-lock today, it seems). It totals a whopping 9558 words, by far the largest chapter yet. I was also a bit nervous with this chapter, so, that, coupled with the HUGE-NESS of this chapter ('tis rather big), will hopefully entice you all to give me tons of reviews, heehee :) Please do leave a review if you can, it will really boost my confidence with this chapter 'cause I'm a tad uncertain of it. **

_tufted titmouse_ – My pleasure! :D Thanks, as always, for the review, and I'm really glad you liked the scene. :)

_bandgeek14_ – Haha, I know, I think everybody looked at that scene and went 'yep, I've been there' XD Ecstatic you loved it so much, thanks for reviewing again! :D

_xXx Tinkies xXx_ – Yay, I'm really happy you liked it so much :3 Glad it was funny for you, thank you for the review. ^-^

_little firework_ – Aww, thank you very much, I'm happy you thought it was so funny, and thanks for the wish of luck – I think my exams went alright *fingers crossed* results tomorrow, gulp! XD Thanks again :)

_zummi16_ – Lol, thank you XD You're so kind, haha, I'm glad it made you laugh :3 Hopefully more hilarity for you this chapter, rofl, thanks for the review :D

_TheAravis_ – '0' "awesome"? THANK YOU! :'D It's okay, you use that word as much as you like, I really don't mind – in fact, I'll pay you to continue to say it! XD Aww, I'm happy you think Jill is cool, that's exactly what I wanted for her. :) Yeah, Skye's tranny-ness is rather startling when you notice it for the first time, haha :L You're right – I've never seen anyone wear leopard print before ._. Happy you find Skye to be in character – I was a bit worried about his character at first, to be honest. :3 Yeah, I thought it would be nice to show how she can make friends quite easily, and gets along rather well with a lot of people :) I know, I exaggerated everyone a bit to make them a bit more fun, so that it would be funnier – and also, I thought that it would show that they are comfortable around Jill and feel able to be a bit more outgoing ^-^ Muffy is actually normal in the game, but I felt the need to make her a bit psycho, not quite sure why but I thought it would hilarious if she was a bit nutty XD Nonsense, I LOVE big reviews, keep them coming, I say, haha ;) Thank you very much for your AWESOME review :D

_AnonymousGirl_ – Thanks for reviewing! :) Wow, happy you like my descriptive style, you're too kind – thanks :D Here's another chapter to sate you, haha, enjoy. :3 Weirdly enough, I think I actually DID have a bit of fun in the exams 0_0 I'm mentally damaged, I know XD

_Corrupted-Minds_ – Aww, wow, thank you :D I'm ecstatic to be the exception to this general rule of yours :L You know what, I found your suggestion so hilarious that I stuck it in at the end – I couldn't help myself, it's just SO funny XDDD It's near the end, thank you very much for the review and the hilarious suggestion :3

__ – HAHAHAHAHAHA you're awesome XD I will gladly take all of those things, thank you :D I don't think Obama would appreciate me stealing his house, but whatevs, he's just boring that way :L Thanks for reviewing! :)

_GintsukiKyu_ – Thanks very much for reviewing, really happy you're enjoying it so far :D Hope you like this chapter, thanks again. ^-^

_Ghostbunnies_ - Late reviews that are late are nonetheless appreciated XD Aww, thank you very much, I'm very glad you gained a new love of the pairing – it needs more love! :D Heehee, thanks for the compliment for Jill, her silliness will be amped up this chapter for you :3 Here's another, enjoy! :)

_**NOT REALLY NEEDED DISCLAIMER ATTACK! – **__**I do not own Harvest Moon, or any of its characters. If I did, upon the suggestion of , I would have pimp harvest sprites, a golden statue of Skye and Obama's house. XDDDD**_

**From now on, so everyone's up to speed, I'm going to give a ****BRIEF SUMMARY OF THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER****. So – Last time with our heroes (Jill)! Muffy tricked Jill by telling her that the girls were going to throw a birthday party for Lumina up at the Goddess Pond in the middle of the night – when, in reality, it was Skye's birthday! *gasp!* So, Jill's baked cake and gift of lingerie was instead given to the surprised Skye. Although, the cake was dropped on his head instead of being eaten. :L Also, Mr Cluckles was newly dubbed 'Dr Cluckles MD'. :D ENJOY!**

Chapter 8 – Bleu, blue, blueeeewww

**Day 11, Summer, Year 1**

'Conniving', thy definition be Muffy. This has been proved on multiple occasions, especially during the unfortunate events of yesterday, when she appeared to finally give in to the utter nuttiness that has been on the edges of her subconscious for a while. Devious! _DEVIOUS!_

Yet, also, a god.

For, due to her evil actions and despicable planning, I was able to soak Skye in cake. By mistake - but it was still funny. And, when I confronted her over the Incident Involving Much Cake (as I now call it), and the circumstances of how it came about, she was expectantly smug and not at all remorseful of her strange, rather malicious act of friendship (at least, I _think _it was all out of the merit of friendship, though I can never be sure when it's concerning Muffy). Trudging up to the Blue Bar earlier than I usually would to visit, temporarily ignoring watering my plants in favour of finding her, I found her with her turned towards the door of the bar, singing a cheerful rendition of '_War – HURGH. What is it good for? – ABSOLUTELY NOTHIN'._

Immediately, I decided to scare her. That probably seems strange – why would I automatically choose to terrify my friend while she's obviously quite happily sucked into a fantasy world of her off-key singing? Here's an explanation:

It's very, very funny.

I knew she was quite jumpy and easy to scare - having been the principle clutching and slapping bag for her to hit in her terror (_quite_ _painfully!_) when we watched a midnight marathon of horror movies on TV with Celia in her room. She threw her hands in the air and shrieked in such a high pitch that Pop, my dog, would always wake up from his frequently interrupted naps, jump high up and hit his head on my dresser and proceed to run around in circles before eventually falling asleep again – _every five minutes_. So, opportunity arose, and I seized it by its arms, jumping up and down and giving it a vicious noogie.

Tiptoeing up behind my equally dim-witted blonde friend, I raised my arms above my head and took in a deep gulp of air, allowing my cheeks to inflate grotesquely as if I was about to promptly puke, like the time I rode the 'Vomit-Meister' rollercoaster when I was in Germany (ugly, ugly sight – I promised myself to never eat sauerkraut again), and prepared myself to scare. Getting into character as a terrifying fiend from the underworld (I frowned and scrunched my eyes in a strange, deformed glare, believing myself petrifying), I let my arms drop heavily onto her shoulders, enthusiastically bellowing a slightly dry roar (I had forgotten to take a drink of water before leaving my house) ending in an unattractive, amused snort.

As expected, she jumped five feet in the air, howling a screech of horror.

As not expected, however, was the paint brush saturated in permanent periwinkle smacking into and sliding down my face.

Wordlessly, I gaped, my wide, rather confused eyes boring into the ground, staring after the brush that cluttered mockingly onto the roughly hewn stone pavement, leaving a small pool of its navy blood after its unceremonious death-by-face. Muffy's arm fell, now empty of her much-abused brush, her mouth falling open in surprise at my abrupt and startling appearance before her, having predicted some fiery demon to be standing there - not a baffled farmer with a face that would be invisible on clear days.

My lips dripping cobalt, I quietly 'hmmphed'.

And, at that, her inevitable roars of laughter echoed around the square, ringing round all of the buildings and causing everybody in the village to look outside find a hysterically cackling barmaid and a rancher with the pallor of a very sad blueberry.

Yet, I continued, trying to speak past all of the paint leaking into my mouth, asserting, "Muphyihuh youuhghg kneeeee_eeeeewww_," this announcement (tinged at the end by paint falling on my exposed tongue) only exacerbated things, and the abruptly tripled volume of giggles attracted yet more attention as Muffy began to practically scream in delight. Bringing up a free hand to hastily scrape away some of the quickly drying stain that was starting to drip down my top and divert to the back of my neck, I managed to choke out, the unpleasant flavour of likely toxic blue-ness remaining stubbornly where it was, "Muffy, you knew - you tricked me!" Shaking my head, large fist full of paint flying off my scalp to hit the wall whilst narrowly missing the ducking Muffy, I pointed at her, my now soggy forefinger waving up and down rapidly as I added, "Liar, liar, pants on _hellfire!_"

Ceasing gradually in her sniggers, she answered happily, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye as she stepped slightly aside to reveal the newly half-painted wall of The Blue Bar and 3 pots of blue liquid settled on the ground, "I don't know what you're talkin' about, hon'!"

Intently, I gazed at her. After a moment, without a word, I walked over to the nearest pot, hearing her surprised little mumble of confusion, and submerged my hand fully in it, earning an abrupt gasp of horror. Turning back around, flexing my Sonic-the-Hedgehog-esque digits before me, a grim thin line began to spread across my face, as she started to jump up and down a few millimetres off of the ground in fright.

"_**ARGH**__, you wouldn't, Jillie!_" To prove, '_Yes, I would_', I took a slow step forward, and she responded with a tiny squeak of nervousness and a step backwards. Her eyes focused in rapt concentration on the fast approaching weapon of mass colour-ation.

In an attempt to build the non-existent tension which I believed at the time to be growing (and now realise otherwise), my volume dropped as I did a brief impersonation of a grouchy satanic priest holding one of his dreaded weekly meetings-and-sacrifice-also-featuring-homemade-brownies, whispering lowly, "Admit it, Muffy, be a dear," I faltered, before finally thinking of a next line to my speech, and grinned smugly at my genius, "or you shall never make it out of here!" Seeming to consider her three options – come clean, refuse to, or running like all hell, Muffy's eyebrows furrowed. I continued, "Hurry, hurry, or you shall be," again, I hesitated, before finally arriving at a dithering rhyme, "covered in something stick_y-y-y-y_."

Coming to a halt, Muffy brought a hand up to her chin, musing, "I don't think paint is sticky, is it?"

That did it.

_No one_ was allowed to diss my rhyming skills.

Leisurely, without fear of Muffy suddenly breaking from her deep considerations, I brought my dribbling hand upward and silently coated her nose with it, cheerfully singing a vaguely related Christmas carol about a snouty reindeer in my head. Indignantly, she yelped, arms flying up in dismay. A long keel emitted at supersonic pitch resonated around us, ricocheting off the nearby structures, gaining in volume steadily. Eventually the shrill bawl died down in its intensity, ending finally in a cross little snuffle. A pause enveloped us, dragging so long that I began to fear that my act of painting had finally broken the fragile mind of my friend to the point where her thus far ignored psychopathic inclination took over her, and she was deliberating on which way would be best to grill a human arm. However, without much of a warning, her cheer resurged and she stated happily, pointedly paying no heed to the nasal quality of her voice arising from a paint-coated sinus tract, "Oh, you loved it really. Seeing Skye, I mean."

Giving her a begrudging nod, I replied, deeply impressed with her recovery, "Yes, it is always fun to dose someone in cake," her honed, now stained eyebrow rose at this, questioning, "but you still lied-d-d-d-d-d-"

She threw her hand in the air, flat palm up, halting my continuous accusation of falseness, grinning, "Cake?"

My head bobbing, I responded, spitting at the side of the dirt path, gagging slightly, "Baked one for Lumina."

"I see. Well, it all turned out great in the end, right?" Frowning, bottom lip sucking my top lip minutely as I considered this, I eventually nodded, and she continued, "All's well that ends well, then, hon'!" She laughed triumphantly, hands on her hips as her chest shook.

After a moment of just breathing, nose scrunched at the burning taste that continued to spread in my mouth like some kind of rapid infection (I would probably have to go to Doctor Hardy for poisoning or something), I asked, "How did you know it was his birthday?"

Dark red suddenly tinged her pale cheeks, and her eyes flew to the sky as she insistently whistled, answering with another attempt at innocence much like before when she had tricked me, "Pff- everybody knows when his birthday is!"

"I didn't."

"You've nary a thought in your mind, Jillie."

"Oh." Simple disappointed puff of air greeting that revelation, I blankly gaped at Muffy's flushed face. Eventually, I continued my questioning, "But how does everyone know? Did you ask?" She mumbled something that, for the life of me, I could not hear, and I exclaimed, "Eh?"

"Fan club," coughing loudly, ignoring my blank gawk, she continued, an attempt at neutrality permeating her elaboration, "_someone _started a fan club for him. They found out all of that kind of stuff through a number of ways: hiring an investigator to look into his past, looking through the trash of his temporary hotel room in the next town over with three hobos hired outside of a _Save'n'Buy, _amassing a thousand gold reward for whoever came forward with information on what conditioner he uses." She shrugged, "You know-" Looking away again, she added, "-the usual."

Pausing, I inquired, "Did you found the fan club, by any cha-"

"—_I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT YOU KNOW NOTHING."_

Out of the blue (I'm so witty), she grabbed the wet handle to the door of the bar, paying no heed to the smear of paint that blemished her hand, twisting it and sprinting inside, just enough time for me to shout, "_But why did he come to the pond?" _

The door began to speak, answering with a mere muffled, "I spread a rumour that a rich heiress – _not called Lumina, of course not - _was going to leave a 300 carat diamond pendant next to the pond as an offering to the Harvest Goddess." Stopping for a second, the wooden feat of carpentry decided to further that remark, "I actually had to go hide in some bushes before you got there and knock a few people out that also wanted the jewellery. There was quite a few: I'm not sure there's ever actually _been_ a 300-carat diamond, so that's probably what piqued interest." Before I could ponder if there ever has existed one such gem, she casually continued, "Oh, you _might_ want to go check on Celia, _maybe, _Jillie," temporarily, she halted, "I hit her on the head by mistake when she came to pick some flowers – _woops_!" A nervous giggle sounded as I gaped, "Moreover, I saw Daryl walk up to your farm before I left you alone at the Pond to wait. I've seen the way he looks at that poster of a cow he has in his house – who knows what he'll do to your chickens!"

Following that disturbing little shout, I heard the locks to the bar all begin to turn as Muffy yelled a 'goodbye', retreating to avoid further conversation.

"I _knew _it!"

And with that yelp of horror at the strange scientist who seemed infatuated with bovine, I began to plod up the road, once again forsaking my poor neglected crops for a little while longer so I could go stare at the bruised noggin of my best friend, fully prepared to terrify her concussed mind with an impression of Mel Gibson from Braveheart.

**Day 18, Summer, Year 1**

That blue took _days _to scrub out of my bath. Even now, the cheap, ugly porcelain is still mildly stained, and I have now had to resign myself to a bathroom which looks depressed with the way its life has turned out. I thought about rubbing my still stained face onto my sink to make it match (the paint was permanent, and won't wash out for a number of weeks, so I still look like I'm miserable or suffering from a happily non-lethal case of frostbite) – but we'll see. From what I hear, Muffy has taken in the past couple days to wearing a surgeon's mask, declaring that she is suffering from an acute case of the rare sickness known as 'I-don't-realy-kn-_Mexican Swine Flu_': too embarrassed to show the masses her ill Rudolph-esque snout for fear of suffering more of the same, insistent song which all of the girls had taken to chanting under their breath every time they caught sight of it, having thought my aforementioned lyrical genius ('Muffy the Blue-Nosed Barmaid', we have titled it, simply) to be so outstanding that it merited being sung at every chance to be had.

However, that is not what is important – what _is_, however, is that the Harvest Goddess has contacted me!

Well, not directly. Due to my glaring lack of a collection of sixty sprites (they'll take _forever_ to find), she's not out of her stone coffin yet. But, I have continued to make tributes to her pond in something of an apology for her rock-iness: it is _sort of_ my fault that she is kinda not alive anymore.

_Sort of. _

…I didn't _mean_ it!

Anyway, since she is _otherwise occupied, _someone else contacted me: a 'friend' of hers.

I had been clearing out my chicken coop again, talking to my feathered friends as I usually do (much to the surprise of Celia, who once caught me serenading a bewildered Mademoiselle Peckington as I bundled hay into the small building when she came to get me for lunch). Petting an indifferent Dr Cluckles (who Celia pointed out at the aforementioned time was in fact a 'she' not a 'he' as I so insistently portray – although, I continue to call _him_ such), I picked up a stray egg from near the door, lying near the gently dozing Mademoiselle. As per routine, I strolled over to the shipping bin, yawning loudly and dropping my pitchfork used to shovel more dried grass in for bedding, and opened it, carefully placing the tiny white dot on the wooden floor of the storage space.

Quite suddenly, the world seemed to explode, and I gave a thunderously shocked yelp, hitting the floor and nearly squashing an abruptly awoken Peckington lady, as glitter burst from thin air and floated to the ground. Hay engulfed my vision, as I heard a squeaky voice declare gleefully, "I'm free!"

Confused, I warily took hold of the slightly sweaty russet strands in my eyes and shoved them to rest behind my ears. Hoisting myself up with more than a hint of reluctance, I looked forward to find a red Harvest Sprite flying gleefully through the air, arms aloft and grinning at me. I beamed, a happy little bark of laughter escaping my lips as I realised that the tiny elfin creature before me signified that I was a step closer to rescuing the Harvest Goddess.

"Thanks for shipping so many eggs, Jill!" Bowing in gratefulness, he continued, "You're doing very well. Good luck, and I'll see you later!" With that, a 'pop' sound emanated, and he disappeared, leaving behind more glitter floating behind in his wake.

Continuing to grin proudly, I stood up quickly to brush myself off, announcing joyfully to my chickens my happiness at saving yet another Sprite, "A job well done," scratching my chin, I added, "I didn't even think I had shipped that many eggs. Oh, well – as my mother always stated: don't look a gift whale in the mouth!" Pausing, I contemplated quietly to myself, "Wait – I'm sure it wasn't a _whale_...Oh, yeah, it's a _hor_-"

My considerations were rather rudely and terrifyingly halted when something _really, really _heavy landed on my raised face, and, once more, I was brought plummeting downwards. Except, unlike the many other times where I successfully failed in standing, at that moment, I was unable to breathe. Arms flailing wildly, an instinctual, wild shout burst forth from me, muted by the cushion-like object firmly engulfing my poor, ever-so baffled face. Oh so mercifully, the accursed weight finally lifted brusquely, and I heard an apathetic, "Woops."

Bolting up, I gestured violently, swaying slightly to and fro as I gasped, large gulp-fulls of air at last filling my wailing, neglected lungs. Glancing before me, I found a disinterested woman floating an inch above the ground, gazing unconcernedly at me. After a time, my gasps quietened to mere sighs and concluded happily in routine. Coming to a realisation that the woman was unlikely to provide some kind of explanation, I prompted, puzzled, "_Hey._ What was that about?"

Raising one eyebrow, the woman yawned, puffing out a breath of air as she replied simply, "Lost my balance for a second."

"Oh." I paused. Eventually, I asked, "What's your name?"

"Witch Princess."

"_Bitch Princess?_"

"_WITCH PRINCESS."_

"Oh." Another suspension in the conversation dragged by, "Why are you here?"

She dropped lazily to the floor, her feet finally hitting the hay (hehe, it sounds like they're sleeping) as she yawned yet again, bringing her arms up to stretch behind her head as she answered, "Here to congratulate you," looking round, frowning at the pair of chickens sat in the corner who were staring at her raptly, she continued, "for getting 30 sprites. You're halfway to saving the H to the G," she explained dutifully, "the Harvest Goddess." She put her hands in her pockets and proceeded to throw them up in the air, flinging some kind of shiny dust everywhere as she mechanically added without any sincerity, "Yay."

Tapping the side of my head, I inquired, "So, are you like her minion, then?"

At that point, an abrupt change in her attitude occurred. Posture straightening like a ram rod, her shoulders tensed, and she ground out, "_No._"

Noticing the 'I'm wishing your prostate to explode right now' glare I was being pierced with, I shuffled my feet, _slightly _nervous that I had just angered an all-powerful god of black magic, and desperately tried to force the conversation forward, "Ah-uh, so I've done alright then, so far, huh?"

Reluctantly, 'Witchy' - as I now dubbed her – rumbled out some forced words, nodding with a great unwillingness, "As reward for your efforts," she clearly struggled to continue, "I am _greatly willing_ to bestow a gift upon you as a favour to the Harvest Goddess, whom I unfortunately owe." Sighing, she brought her hands to her temple, rubbing it in an attempt to relax herself, "So; what will it be."

Needless to say, I was intrigued. I jumped enthusiastically at the chance for a real life genie wish that would be granted for me, and ran through all of my desires in my head. As it turns out, there really aren't that many – I seem to be wholly lacking in some kind of greedy impulse. The only things I could find myself pondering on were things such as a hat for my prize chicken Dr Cluckles (_rather_ amusing), an apple (as I was quite hungry), or a new pair of wellies to traverse through puddles with (my current pair were permanently saturated with muck). I was about to give up, when, out of the _blue _- go away, blue, nobody even _likes you _- a thought popped into my mind. An interesting thought.

What if I learned a magic trick?

_Coolio._

This idea was 'coolio' because with it came a great deal of interesting prospects. I remembered the trick Skye pulled with that beam thing when we met in the Blue Bar, and that was fascinating. If I could do something similar, all kinds of fun could be achieved! For one, I could freak out my friends – always glorious. For another, any wild dogs that entered my property could be frozen into feral, slightly terrifying statues. Lastly, I would be able to capture Skye and leave him in situations of various peril.

'Capture Skye.'

That could be fun.

Finding myself reaching a conclusion, I answered the awaiting Witchy, "Can you teach me a magic trick?"

Somewhat surprised, she asked, "What kind of magic trick?"

"I don't know," hesitating, I replied dumbly, "a beam-y one?" She faltered, clearly unsure of what I meant, so I explained, "My friend does a kind of trick, where this beam comes from his hands and he freezes whoever he points it at."

Eyebrows raised, she said, "I see. Well, okay, I suppose – if that's really what you want." She lifted her arms up high, making her body float again, as she began to mumble incoherently in some unknown tongue. Patiently, I waited on the sidelines, astoundingly unperturbed by the lightning flying from her glowing hands. Following a tiny explosion from both her fingers, a strange tingly feeling fought its way into my head, and I flinched in surprise as though a powerful electric shock had just attacked my body. Finished, she sighed, "It's done."

Quietly, she muttered some more words under her breath, clearly about to leave, when I stopped her, sputtering a hurried, realised, "Wait!" Startled, she stopped, swivelling her head round expectantly at me. I had just thought of something – it would probably be best to gain favour with the omnipotent being before me, lest she come to my house in the middle of the night and turn me into a frog for that 'minion' comment I had just made. Therefore, I decided to bribe her. Maybe she would accept a half-empty packet of gum or lint in lieu of transforming my head into a giant donut (tasty, but I am regrettably unable to eat my own head without facing a possibility of death). Unfortunately, as I began to rummage through my pockets, I came to the forlorn realisation that I didn't have anything on me, not even semi-useful objects like gum or lint (damn, I almost always have those!), apart from a soggy twig I used to play fetch with Pop. Wordlessly, I brought the bland, moderately chewed stick before me, taking her hand in mine and placing it in her palm, inadvertently wiping some leftover canine spittle on her skin, thinking, '_Oh, well, better than nothing. Hope she doesn't decide to beat me with it.'_

Much to my surprise, upon seeing the brown, boring sliver of branch, her eyes lit up. Fingers flying the object before her ecstatic face, she gasped in joy, "Wow!" With an abruptness that staggered me, she heavily patted my back, thanking me profusely, "You're so thoughtful, thank you Jill. Feel free to visit me in my hut anytime you want, near Lumina's mansion, okay? See you later!"

And, without another word besides her speedy and swift thanks, she disappeared with a flame flying everywhere around my hut. I had little time to be shocked, as I noticed that a bundle of hay had caught alight, and rushed to grab a bucket of water to extinguish it, harangued by the indignant cries of my chickens, as I pondered on the nature of my pristine new ability and the possibility of a friendship with a witch.

**Day 22, Summer, Year 1**

"Jill!"

Upon stepping out of my house this morning, hands raised to sleepily comfort my droopy eyes, I was immediately met with a shout and a figure appearing before me. It took a minute for me to realise who it was, and when I did, once again checking the time on my now scuffed, well-loved watch which happily presented '6.32AM', I was surprised by both their identity and their unusual earliness.

"Flora?" I took in her unnervingly and abnormally harried, worrisome appearance, blonde hair obviously raked through continuously by anxious hands, slightly perturbed by her clear nervousness and fright. My brow crinkled in confusion and I began to speak, "What-?" Just as I began to voice my concern, my rapidly stirring gaze finally kicked into gear and stood to an abrupt attention, pointing and screaming unfathomable gibberish at a scrap of paper kneaded and crinkled in my friend's hands. For, at that moment, an ever so minute, memorable, inexplicably familiar scent rippled through the air, and tinged my senses, suddenly assaulting my nose as my thoughts grew more alarmed.

_Roses?_

My head flinched in a powerfully earthquake like double take that almost gave me whip-lash, as I came to the realisation:

_**Skye!**_

Gaping, stammering uselessly as my stubbornly napping brain rolled over and proceeded to maintain its deep sleep, ignoring the pleas of my mouth to awaken, I brought my right arm forward as it began to fly up and down to gesture loudly at the sheet of _destiny. _That's right: _destiny. _I am now declaring myself (un)officially destined to pull a magic trick to bewilder Skye! For once, I shan't be the befuddled – I shall be the _befuddler! _

That's a word, now. I'm going to go write that down in my dictionary.

With a strong sense of fatigue draping her normally intrepid, fearless presence, Flora spoke, "I got this note this morning, Jill," she lifted the paper to my eyes, frowning at it, "from Phantom Thief Skye. You know him, so," saying nothing else, she handed me the pink sheet over, placing it into my awaiting hand. I looked down, preparing myself for the news of his inevitable robbery.

"_Why, hello, there._

_How do you do? I am fine, thank you._

_Hehe, okay, that's quite enough of that. I suppose I should apologise to the lovely young blonde woman that will be part of the pair receiving this note. As she will probably recall, on a robbery some time ago I unfortunately smacked right into her as she turned a corner whilst I was being chased by the police, and she fell into the Goddess Pond. I am deeply sorry for ruining your clothes, fair maiden!"_

I looked up at Flora, and, upon her casual shrug, went back to the sheet,

"_Despite this, however, I'm afraid that I am still going to arriving at your dig site tent at midnight tonight. Thereupon, I shall help myself to your valuables. Let's try to keep this as clean a cut to your property as possible, hmm?_

_Thanking you in advance,_

_Phantom Thief Skye."_

I brought the effeminate paper down from my reading of it, concluding my digestion of the information it held. Flora remained tight lipped and tense shouldered, standing before me with an air of utter exhaustion tinged with a hint of sheer annoyance at the events that were about to unfold.

Taking a deep breath, I smiled comfortingly at her, my brain suddenly waking from its deep stupor to do a can-can of excitement and prompt me to tell her, "I'll be there."

**Day 23, Summer, Year 1**

All day long yesterday, I feverishly anticipated the arrival of the fateful time of midnight. As I plodded around my farm, making sure to complete all of my work in order that I could arrive at Flora and Carter's tent in time, my thoughts were consumed solely with the impending 'adventure' of burglary sure to take place later on. Who ever knew that waiting for a theft could be so thrilling? Not I, certainly. If a robber broke into my own home late in the night to steal my valuables, having warned me ahead of time that he would do so via a very girly letter, I probably wouldn't be so inexplicably enthused. However, since it wasn't my possessions on the line, and I wouldn't have to be the one to jump out in my PJs in the night, sputtering in fear and raising a coathanger above my head in a meagre attempt at defence, I was in high enough spirits.

Since my head was stuck in the clouds of daydreams, I was more prone to accidents than usual. That's actually very concerning – I'm the girl who's suffered such unfortunate incidents as tripping over a pitchfork (that I had left on the floor moments prior whilst cleaning the coop) and landing in a pile of bird droppings; slipping on an abandoned apple by my barn (abandoned by me the day before without thinking much of it) and promptly smashing into my toolbox; and leaning over the wooden fence to Celia's fertiliser storage space (unintentionally fractured by me a week previous), breaking it and drowning head-first in the pile for over an hour undiscovered. For the duration of the entire day, I found myself tripping over my feet more than normal, and committing minor acts of accidental animal cruelty through stepping on Lolly and Pop's tails with my huge steel toe-capped boots.

Finally, 11.30 arrived, and I decided that it was time for me to travel to the abode of my threatened friends. Dutifully, I shepherded my lovely chicken brethren into their indoor home, giving my nightly affectionate hugs to Lolly and Pop, leaving little treats out for them in the form of some biscuits I bought the day at the dig site, I found Flora and Carter absorbed in a tense silence. I broke that tension, of course - without having made any attempt to do so. As per myself (and my gigantic feet) I came onto the scene, immediately tripped, and toppled over into an outdoor dig they had just started to excavate in one of the small grass fields outside their main site in a manner and force akin to a large polar bear with weights strapped to it, that had just been hit over the head and made unconscious with a demolition ball.

Yelping with a mix of surprise and a feeling of 'yeah, that's about right', I tried to duck and roll: after falling so many times in my young life to the point that I had achieved my city's record for consecutive falls, I had decided to go on the internet and try to learn techniques to minimise the damage done to my easily bruised body (my skin is as easy to damage as a rotten peach – after I fall I usually look like I have just survived an apocalypse featuring hordes of sentient rocks which threw themselves at me). These involved tucking my head into my body as I formed a foetal position, to avoid completely destroying my cranium and cause only _mild_ brain damage (fingers crossed) and rolling in a big swirl of speed until I stopped. This technique also usually involved smashing into a wall afterwards, but I was fortunate enough to be in a fantastically soft grass field for once (we should just demolish brick walls and replace them with woven grass so I don't hurt my head all the time).

So, I finally managed to execute this technique correctly, twirling round and round over my lanky limbs before I came to a halt, and, in my triumph, I jumped to my feet, threw my hands in the air, and yelled, "_Hurrah!_"

'Greatly unamused' would be branded across the forehead of Carter and Flora at that moment, if emotions were expressed through drawing backwards across our faces in markers. Mouths held tightly in thin white lines, their eyes widened and dilated with rage.

I promptly urinated.

Metaphorically.

And otherwise.

Letting out a great puff of air in an attempt to somewhat stall the conversation as I tried to think of what to say, I stammered, "Pff—_I'm sorry do you not like a-a-acrobatics?_"

Carter's strained voice carried to my panicking ears, "_Acrobatics_."

I decided to carry on the charade, mind pitching in that it was worth a shot if only to try and bring Carter's rocketing eyebrow back down to his face. In line with this, I brought my arms above my head in some form of faux stretch, pretending to crack my neck (and hurting it by mistake) as I seemed to divulge, "Oh, yes, I'm quite good at it. It's my hobby, you know," I hesitated, "I practice all day long."

At this, Flora pitched in, "Is that why I always see you tripping up over your feet all the time?"

Pausing, my eyes flashed to and fro. Eventually, I worked up the courage to deadpan a lie, "Yes."

"Oh, I see," she relaxed a bit, laughing, "I always thought that you were just clumsy to the point of stupidity!"

Mechanically laughing alongside her, I avoided her gaze as if it were the plague, "I never did tell you how much I love your blunt nature of conversation, Flora, it's quite delightful, and not at all terrifyingly capable of wreaking awkwardness." Turning back to Carter, I asked softly for fear of angering the potentially violent archaeologist (he could beat me up with a fossilised leg bone or something), "Nothing _too_ important was in there, right?"

"A pot. One of a kind."

"_Ah_, oh, very unfortunate on my part, _well_, how much was it, I can pay-"

"-Half of a million gold-"

"-_NOT, I will NOT pay for it, yes._" Brushing myself off furiously, fingers nearly spasming in my intense efforts to try and remain calm despite the overwhelmingly frightening thought of a potential lawsuit stripping me of the mere pennies down the back of my couch, when I could just now barely afford to buy anything besides stale bread and water, I gave a laboured sigh in an endeavour of nonchalant behaviour, "So. _So_. SO. Shall we enter the tent?"

Shooting me one last killer look, Carter opened the flap, and Flora and I followed.

Time passed agonisingly and mind-numbingly slow as we sat still in the tent, poised to sprint forward and attack at any moment if we saw Skye appear. I had been becoming increasingly bored, and could not stop myself from thinking 'I could be sleeping right now' over and over again, with slight variants emerging every so often, 'I should be sleeping at this exact moment', 'I wish I could be asleep', 'I might just fall asleep right here, they won't care, will they?' Unfortunately, upon inquiring as to whether or not they _would_ care, the response was a resounding '_no_'.

As midnight arrived, I fidgeted uncontrollably at the unbearable tediousness, never moving my gaze from the entrance, morbidly intrigued with the sickly cream colour of the tent flaps that reminded me of a pie a clown once threw in my face when I was a child (I wasn't at a circus when that occurred: he was just a very sick, sick man).

Breaking the silence, Carter suddenly exclaimed, bowling me over with his abrupt shout, "_Bloody hell!_ That dirty snake of a thief could be stealing artifacts from the dig site right this very moment!"

Standing at her own pace a la her quintessential bluntness, Flora inferred frankly, "We were actually quite stupid for not having previously considered this."

Carter turned, gave her a look that screeched '_WHY DID YOU NOT POINT THIS OUT SOONER'_, and then rounded on me, "We're going, Jill – you stay here, to make sure that if he comes in, that he won't get away-"

"-I'm a bad guard. Very bad. Don't entrust me. Why do people insist on trusting me? I'm undependable in this regard, I say! Stop giving me stuff to look after!"

To my immense displeasure, Carter ignored me, and instead whirled round to Flora, "Let's go!"

Running out, Carter continued to blatantly disregard my yelled warnings and questions of possible lawsuits that he could bring against me. I was left alone with my thoughts of 'if he's stupid enough to rely on me not to get totally frozen, then he rather deserves to be robbed of all he's got'. Within barely ten seconds of my friends' departure, I heard a rustle outside, clearly indicative of Skye's arrival. I decided to beat him to the punch with unexpected greetings. As soon as he came through the flap, looking behind himself to keep an eye out for Carter and Flora, I hailed him happily and louder than I usually would, "_WHY HALLO THAR._"

For the first time ever since I had met him, Skye looked surprised. His head whipped round to face me, eyes wide with shock. Upon setting sight on me, his gaze lost its taut alertness, and he grinned, laughing, "Hehe, hello there, lovely Jill! I knew fate would bring us together tonight – I just didn't think that you were going to scare me like that."

Beaming widely, I replied, "Well, you know me well enough now to realise that I am full of surprises."

"Indeed, indeed. You really are something else, Jill: very surprising."

"I have another shock in store! I am going to mess around with you for a little bit. Fun times ensue."

"Is that so, hmm?"

"Yeah. So, just sit right there. Don't move."

"Why?"

"Just stay right there," I brought my hand up to point at his confused face. Squinting to aim, I came to a realisation – I didn't actually know the words to the spell. Thinking back to when Skye had cast his magic on me, I recalled his words: '_Maiden Chick Beam Fire!'_ I dropped my hand as I thought some more, paying no attention to the obediently still Skye who stood where he was as I had asked him to, silent.

_So, for the spell, I just say out loud what I want it to do? Maybe I should have practised this before coming out here to pull it on him for funsies._

"Jill, what are you trying to do, dearest maiden? You look very confused."

"Eh," I faltered, "I was hoping to surprise you, but..." I trailed off. Shaking my head, I decided swiftly to just go with the flow and say whatever came to mind with the hope that it wouldn't all go to hell in a hand-basket. "Oh, eh. I'll just...okay. Okay, then. I'll just...Yeah." Gulping nervously at the thought that I could very possibly explode the world if I took a wrong step – something which I was ungodly prone to doing – I brought my hand back up to face Skye. My mutter that 'I hope I do this right' seemed to alarm Skye somewhat (I don't really blame him – I think I would panic, too.) Squeezing both of my eyes shut, I finally shouted what came to mind, spluttering out, "_Effeminate Guy Beam...ICE ICE BABY!_"

As I yelled this strange, improvised chant inspired by my mother's bizarre and quite disturbing obsession with a geeky white rapper from her childhood, a kick-back of epic proportions rocketed up my arm with the equivalent power of Satan flicking a fly off of his shoulder with his forefinger made of a thousand dead puppies and bunny rabbits. This horrendously unexpected strength of force caused my hand to fly off to aim in the completely wrong direction. My eyes shot open immediately, giving me just enough time to witness the beam hitting a mirror attached to the wall directly parallel to the way I was now pointing (why? WHY?), ricocheting and consequently instantly returning back to its creator – me.

_Whoop - I'm dead, then. I'm quite unlucky, sometimes._

Against all of my split-second expectations, I didn't get thrown back when the beam hit. Instead, I just stayed where I was. Completely the same. As average and normal (okay, I maybe wouldn't go quite that far) as ever. Skye rushed forward, flabbergasted for the second time since having met me today, shouting about 'are you alright' or something of that ilk.

My voice wavered slightly as I felt to see if my limbs were still attached to my terribly bewildered body, "Probably shouldn't have done that."

"Why did you do that?"

"Really shouldn't probably have done that. Not dead, though - always a plus." At this, I smiled. Immediately afterwards, I fell over, legs abruptly collapsing, and I plummeted straight into Skye's arms that were thankfully aware of my impending dive. Without missing a beat, he swiftly brought me completely into his grip, and gently lifted my numb corpse-like body onto his shoulder in a fireman's lift. Before I even had time to grasp what was going on, he began to walk of the tent and down the path. Laughing at the strangeness of the situation, I apologised at roping him into such a bizarre circumstance, "Sorry about you having to carry my fat arse."

Barking laughter, he replied, "Don't be silly, night angel – you have a lovely and not at all fat behind!"

"Aw, thanks. But I'm still sorry you have to carry me."

"My pleasure: it's an honour to assist a beautiful maiden such as yourself. Helping maidens is my _raison d'etre._"

"_Raisin debt ray_?"

"_Reason to be_, dear Jill. It's French."

"Oh. _Bonjour, mon_..._mon fromage." _

Skye laughed, as he asked lightly, "Where did you get that little piece of magic, my lady?"

I hesitated slightly as I wondered where he had gotten his, before I replied with, "From a new friend, is all: the same person I suspect you got yours from."

The only response I got to this was a sly, "Ah."

By this time, we were over the bridge, and from my position on his shoulder, I could see both Skye's moving feet and my farm, which was getting further and further away. "Hey, Skye," I felt his head turn at my voice, "where are we going?"

"The beach: I want to speak to you for a while."

"Why don't we just go to my farm to speak?"

"It's a gorgeous night – we should enjoy it to the fullest, no?"

"Yeah, I suppose that's a good point. Okay." We fell into a comfortable, companionable silence. Happily, I sighed, content with spending some time – albeit a rather life-threatening time – just talking to Skye.

Out of the silence, after a small pause, Skye quietly informed me, "I sent a note today, Jill, but I didn't go up to that tent to steal archaeological artifacts."

Surprised, I stayed wordless for a moment, before asking perplexedly, "So why did you go up there, then?"

"I came up to see you, Jill."

"...Eh?" He didn't amplify that striking, multifaceted chord at that moment, and kept his eyes on the path he was walking with me. We didn't speak again until we finally reached the golden sand of the beach, when Skye carefully set me down next to the saturated edge of sand bordering on the vast ocean that was illuminated quite beautifully by the full moon. My usual worries that by being out at this time at night on a period of a whole moon I was leaving myself wide open to a werewolf attack (ever since I was a kid, I've had an inexplicable fear of the creatures, possibly as a result of having snuck into a theatre playing an omnibus of horror movies centering on them when I was 8) were dismissed, as I instead actually paid attention to a conversation I was part of for once.

Skye's chuckle broke the silence, "Hehe." I turned to him in question, "The ocean is especially stunning tonight, isn't it? I think it's because you're beside my side, wonderful Jill."

Laughing at his mozzarella cheese ways, I responded, "Oh, you know how it is – I'm so amazingly hot that I'm banned from entering chocolate factories as I would melt all of the produce."

"Ha! Very good!" As he laughed, he turned round to look at me to see me more fully. All of a sudden, his gaze widened, and he jumped forward and took hold of my shocked mug, making a rather bewildering inquiry, "What happened to your face?"

My hands came up to self-consciously and confusedly pat at my mug, feeling for disturbing lumps or alien limbs that had spontaneously sprouted from thin air, as I asked with a hint of dread, "What are you talking about? Am I f'ugly or something?"

"No, no, of course not that – your nose is blue! Did someone attack you?"

"Uh," I paused, "no, I just fell from heaven and hit the ground face first."

Gently, his fingers prodded at my features, softly swiping over them, promptly causing my eyebrows to take off and fly off into the outer reaches of space, "Seriously, what happened? You don't have _frostbite_, do you?"

His flatteringly concerned expression began to make me feel guilty, and I felt no longer able to just laugh it off. Laughing softly at his worry, I informed him, "Ok, I _was_ attacked," his eyebrows furrowed and his grip on me tightened, "by blue paint." Pausing, his grip on me eventually loosened, and he smiled in amusement.

"Alright, then. I hope you realise what this means: I'm going to have to – excuse my French, angel – go kick the colour blue's ass."

I reciprocated his wry grin with my own smirk, asserting my agreement, "Punch that biatch right in the smug, smug face. Who needs one of the primary hues – we'll make do with yellow and red."

"Hehehe. I was actually rather hoping that it was due to the cold: I was planning on offering my body warmth to heat you up, if you so wished - completely in a gentlemanly and utterly respectable fashion, of course."

Bursting out with a new spiel of cacophonous laughter, I observed delightedly, "You're like my old neighbour's dog, Mrs Fred, who used to hump everything he could - lampposts, trees (he got a lot of splinters), my leg...the only difference is that you really, really like shiny things. You're like a magpie's head that got stitched onto Mrs Fred's head by Doctor Frankenstein."

"_Ha, _how _lovely -_ you flatter me! Anyway, my dearest maiden, I'm only trying to protect you from the cold: I don't wish you to come to any harm, after all, or I would die from heartbreak at your suffering." At this, without any sense of embarrassment (which I would have most certainly been feeling, had I been in his position), he took my hand and brought himself closer to me, smirking in his signature fashion.

Feeling engulfed in the overwhelming sense of trope to the situation and his actions, I began to snigger loudly with total abandon right in his undaunted and quite pleased face. Continuing with my chuckles, I managed to sputter out, "I am going to compile a book of quotes of your flirtations – they're really, truly, brilliantly hackneyed; I love them."

Grinning widely, he inferred, "And me also, yes?"

My laughs increased in volume, and I took hold of his shoulder as they shook my body, "Oh dear Buddha, you never stop, it's fantastic!"

Questioning, he inquired, a smile spreading over his face as he took in my high-spirited mood, "You are a Buddhist?"

"No, it's just that 'God' is kind of clichéd from overuse now, you know?"

"_Ah._" Calming took a while for us, as we were so exultant in mood, and found it nearly impossible to quieten. We did eventually, however, and managed to settle into another comfy silence.

I decided to take something of a risk, that for once didn't involve me narrowly avoiding breaking my neck, by moving closer to Skye and leaning on his shoulder. It was hardly a risk, more of a perilous social action, or a slight danger to ease of being, but I have a strange fear of invading a person's personal space if we've never hugged or really physically interacted much before, in case they aren't as touchy-feely as I am. When I first met Muffy (of course), I didn't have to concern myself with this dilemma, as she immediately latched herself onto me and refused to let go for half an hour upon primary introductions. Then again, Skye _has _physically interacted with me before in the form of kissing me on the cheek – but I don't really count that: that was something he probably did for his own amusement at the time rather than to really make contact with me.

As I had hoped for the sake of not causing discomfort, upon the instant that my head touched his shoulder, Skye just smiled and accepted it without a word, relaxed, actually leaning in as well. I took it as permission to stay put, and did so, coming to peace again as we both watched the rolling waves of the sea. To be honest, although I knew I was probably meant to be the blushing maid at that moment, acting coyly and flirting with the man next to me (like in all of the romance novels Muffy kept trying to 'discreetly' shove at my face in a strange form of advice-giving), I began to feel a bit sleepy. So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone (those poor, poor birds) and keep myself awake whilst making conversation with Skye to get to know him better. As a result, I prompted the start of another topic, "So, what did you want to talk about with me?"

From the side of my shoulder he was leaning against, Skye shrugged gracefully (in what I know is the first and only time I have ever seen anyone do so), as he answered, "Anything you wanted to talk about - I just wanted to meet you again."

I smiled widely, happy with this lovely compliment and the mutual feeling of interest shared by us both, and responded, "Okay, then. Let's talk about you." I turned to look at him, seeing his quirked eyebrow, "What is your favourite food?"

He began to laugh, barking loudly in pleasant amusement, "Hehe! Is that really what you want? Not my last name or something of that sort?"

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that. That's a good one, actually...but I'll ask that another time. I like my food, and I thought you looked quite," I paused, thinking, "well-versed in cuisine and stuff."

"Well-versed, eh."

"Yes, exactly so! Am I wrong? I thought you did."

"No, you're right. My favourite meal is curry, believe it or not – not quite haute cuisine, hehe, but delicious all the same."

I grinned broadly at this, "I love curry, too!"

He smiled happily, turning to face me completely, "Really?"

"Yes, of course – I held the title of curry eating champion in my city for 3 years in a row! In one year, I ate 37 plates of it! I was sick, afterwards. Very sick. Couldn't stop tasting tomato for 5 weeks."

Skye didn't say anything else for a while, although, I did see him snigger a bit at my revelation of my previous tomato haunting. It took him a few minutes before he spoke again, "I actually don't just like curry – I make it every day."

"You cook?"

"Yes, very much so. I work very hard at it, and keep trying to improve day after day." I listened in rapt attention, surprised by his wistful tone, as he continued, maintaining firm eye contact with me, "I gather various ingredients and taste curry made by many different people." A frown spread across his face, "But I never really create the curry I want to create. It's very frustrating – I've got the right flavour and all, but it still seems to be missing something important. What do you think it is?" He faced me, eyes questioning.

I panicked. A little bit. You see, I'm not a good cook – at all. I have baked potato waffles with maple syrup, put ketchup in some shortbread, burnt a peach bake to literal ashes, used a skinned potato instead of an apple to make a pie...There are many, _many_ more horror stories of my time in the kitchen - but I don't think you really want to hear them all. So, when Skye asked me for advice on cooking, I was grasping at straws, and replied with something that I hoped would just work for any recommendation, "Have you put salt in?"

Evidently, he had, because he began to laugh again, possibly at the loudest volume I have ever heard him reach, and he responded, "_Yes,_ I _think _so, yes."

"Well, then, eh...My mum always said you need two things when trying to cook – a hired chef and a hell of a lot of love."

"_Love_. Hmm." He went silent, contemplating. Eventually, he flashed me a smile, "You may be right, my dear night angel – I've been so focussed on flavour that I never thought about it." Standing, he brought his hand down to me to help me up, and I graciously accepted as he added, winking, "I hope you try some of my curry next time I make some."

"I'd love to, but I don't really know where to find you. The only times I've seen you, you were on some 'jobs'."

Smiling, he informed me, "This 'robbery' was only initiated so I could see you, lovely Jill – you haven't noticed, but I've been waiting at the Goddess Pond every free night I've had since you covered me in cake. I was hoping to meet you again, you see."

Absentmindedly, I patted off some sand that was clinging determinedly onto my behind, replying, "I didn't realise at all – I'm sorry." He shook his head, signalling that it was fine, as I confirmed, grinning, "Okay, I'll come see you when I have the time at night, Skye!"

Nodding, he chuckled happily, "Everything's going according to my wishes - magnificent! I have a question, though, before you go – why did you give me that set of lingerie the other night?"

Smirking, I answered, "I thought my tranny friend might put them to some good use, is all."

He chortled, "Hehe, very good, very good indeed." He bowed down before me, so low that I pondered that he could probably beat me at a game of limbo, before straightening, "I would love to walk you home – but I fear that a nice girl like you shouldn't be caught out with a rambunctious thief." Grinning once more at me, he winked, "Good luck with your work, beautiful Jill."

"Alright. Bye." Smiling, he began to walk away, head slightly inclined back to me and hand waving gently back behind him. I hesitated, staring after him, wavering, as my hands subconsciously brushed together and dusted away gritty grains still lingering on them. With a slight vacillation, I finally just shrugged and walked up behind him, catching up to his large-paced steps. As he turned to face me, mouth falling open in an obvious move to ask me something, I leaned in post-haste and immediately landed a smacker of a kiss...on the outside of his ear, weirdly enough. I had been aiming for his forehead, but my course was abruptly diverted at the last minute as Skye shifted slightly. _Something_ of a mistake. Woops.

Yeah, you shouldn't really have gotten too excited – any attempts to gain some kind of romantic closeness to someone always end up going eccesively pear-shaped for me. Maybe someday I shall actually succeed in doing something that I intended to do.

Without more ado, I moved away, splitting from his path to walk up back to the dig site and assure my friends that I was indeed not murdered or kidnapped by the dude who was supposed to be taking possession of their collection of ancient Mayan teaspoons or whatever, as Skye stayed where he was, uttering no sound. Just as I was about to be out of earshot of him, he at long last articulated his thoughts, slightly louder than usual in order that his voice could reach me from our increased distance, "Not that I would _ever_ complain about that, Jill, but what was that for?"

I turned, grinning happily at my own daring, and informed him, still walking (albeit backwards – possibly a safety hazard), "You gave me a kiss before, at the bar, so it was only right that I return the favour. Equality in sexes!"

I continued to walk, tripping back on my bum as previously expected, picked myself up again and dusted myself off to the chuckles and declined offers of help from Skye, and carried on, waving back to him cheerfully as I controlled the urge to triumphantly cackle and punch the air at my bold action, already planning more pranks likely to fail that could end with more quality time spent with the fun thief.

**Hope you all enjoyed! :D **

**Thanks to AnimeReallyIsMyLife for the idea of a beam for Jill :) You're awesome! Don't worry, everybody, I'm not throwing this idea away with this chapter – it's going to become important, haha :3**

**Thanks are also given to Corrupted-Minds for the joke at the end. You rock with teh humourz! :L**

**Not really sure when the next update will be: I've already pretty much planned out everything for next chappie, but this one was so long that it took a lot out of me XD But, don't worry about it, 'cause there will be a new one some time, not that long. As always, feel free to suggest ideas for certain scenes or even just little jokes here and there, because, as always, I want to make this story a fun experience for everybody :)**

**It'll probably encourage me to update sooner with more reviews, *hint hint* And, come on, I spent FOREVER making this chapter – took SOOOO long XD So gimme some credit! ;D**

**REVIEW, MY PRETTIES, REVIEWWWWWWW :D**


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